Spiritless Poppet and Shaman King
by Sheo Darren
Summary: Couples' night tonight. Chapter Nine. Double Date. Need I say more?
1. Prologue

_THE ROMANCERS_

**  
**_We are the Romancers._

_Those that lurk behind the veneer of life_

_Always on the lookout for love in all places_

_To mend heartaches and bring harmony in strife_

**  
**_We are the Romancers._

_Never shall we be kept at bay_

_Determined to see our goals in fruition_

_And damned be anything in our way_

**  
**_We are the Romancers._

_Our duty is to life; we can never take it away_

_For life is there in magnitude with true love_

_And our job is to bring love to hearts gone astray_

**  
**_We are the Romancers._

_Our vow is never by forcible due_

_Or threat of death and despair_

_To make people say "I love you"_

**  
**_We are the Romancers._

_The Romancers are we_

_We are only human_

_But we can dream, can't we?_

**  
**_We are all forever Romancers._

_In bright splendor love will live_

_In the gardens we have sown_

_That is what we truly believe_

_Amen._

**  
**Upon the wall is inscribed a message in bright red, flanked by cheerful pink.

"We're back!"

**  
The Romancers**

**Set One**

**Shaman King**

**  
Arc Two**

**Spiritless Poppet And Shaman King**

**  
Prologue**

**Romancers Again!**

**  
Disclaimer:** Sheo Darren (meaning, me), declares that he owns nothing about Shaman King save the original plot and characters. New readers are directed to the first installment, _Iron Maiden and Dowser Knight_, for details and continuity. Old followers Fluff Inc, Setsumi-san, Apple-Chan, Angel-wing2, Kitsune Asakura, Nagumo, syaoran no hime, s91, Person With Many Aliases and all others I have forgotten, have this message for them:

_Eto__ na naman! _Here we go! _Yosh__, yosh! Ikuyo!_

**  
Chapter One coming soon!**


	2. Mari

_For Jess and Erica, who started me on writing ManKin. Amen to them and all Jeanne-Lyserg fans of good will._

**  
**Our sun, the center of our solar system, is a medium sized yellow dwarf, tiny amongst the giants that littered the milky way of our galaxy, much less the unknown titans hidden in the vastness of our universe. Yet it is the most important neighbor for the small blue-white marble that is the planet called Earth– more accurately, for the six billion or so humans who live upon Earth. Without the warmth and the light the sun provides, life on our world would be radically different from what we know it. Thus, it is most essential to the well-being of humankind. We cannot survive without it– or, at least, the current reality of our society and civilization cannot survive without it.

In a way, one can say that the sun stands for love. If it weren't for love, so much of the world would be a sadder, darker place for lack of it. It is not to say that love can solve all the problems of the world, or that the world would be a perfect place with love. There are some things that just somehow won't be moved by love.

But love gives birth to hope, and hope leads to the pursuit of the happiness it promises. And at the end of the road, it doesn't seem as sad and lonely as it appeared before.

Love makes the world go round.

**  
**Now, as it has done countless times before, the sun plays witness and matchmaker to a girl and a boy and to all those around them whom they care for, and who care for them in return. Like planets in orbit around their mother star, these souls and hearts will be lead to their proper places, a pattern following the tapestry that Fate weaves for us all, the story of our lives given light.

In a way, the sun is a romancer.

Just like all of us.

**  
**Through its eight-minute sprint through the blackness of space, in seconds past the blue sky and white clouds and grey smog above the city that is Tokyo, diving between skyscrapers and towers and buildings that all but devoured the city's view of the sky, somehow the shaft of sunlight fell directly upon one single person. As a droplet of moisture signals rain or a lonely snowflake herald snowfall, it is a signal of momentous things to come in our lives. The one who ignores its summons do so at their peril, or knowing instinctively and needing no telling anymore.

The sunlight was the caress of a person who cares, a feeling so rare and prized by one like her who has so little of them in her short life. She stopped and looked up expectantly, her attention stirred from the private reverie she was lost within at the fleeting touch of warmth upon her face, feeling it for all it and she was worth, awaiting for the rest to come.

But there was nothing there. It had since passed on to another place and time, no moment wasted in dawdling too long upon one single human being, its gift far too precious to dally with special favor upon one while others suffer from lack of it.

She was alone once more, alone again.

Despite herself and everything she had stood for and been, the girl sighed.

**  
The Romancers**

**Set Two**

**  
Spiritless Poppet And Shaman King**

**  
Disclaimer:** Sheo Darren (meaning, me), owns only what I have created: My original characters and the story general. I don't profess own Shaman King or any other familiar anime, movie, novel, song or others that is already owned by someone else.

**  
Chapter One**

**Mari**

**  
**She was tired. Not just physically tired, but spiritually wearied, battered by an endlessly senseless series of hardships that sprung all around her without warning. She felt like a spur of rock that stood out in the sea as stormy waves lapped and smashed about, a lonely island that mimicked her heart and herself. And she remembered that in time the waves toppled even the mightiest of islands into the depths of the sea, consigned there to be forgotten by all until the world was remade.

The masterless ocean that is life overruns the world of man.

It was far beyond what a normal person can take without being broken for life– or simply ceasing to live. But she wasn't a normal person. She wasn't just anyone who would fall over and die for the pleasure or sake of other people. She was special, of course.

Was she?

In her tightly clutched hand, the marionette she carried seemed to squirm a bit. Resembling a jack-o'-lantern pumpkin ornament of Halloween tradition, it was somehow both scary and cute. It was her protector, her weapon and birthright. More than that, it was all she had left to call her own.

But not even Chuck could stay the predatory darkness that constantly swirled around and within her, waiting for her to drop her guard, the slow-killing poison that was loneliness.

In the few moments of peace throughout her abandonment, she found herself thinking of the few people in her life. She thought of her family, long dead all these years, the victims of people who could not bring themselves to understand what the unique few stood for. She could still remember her oppressors scream, could still taste and smell and feel the smoke and fire.

_Burn them!_ _Burn the witches! Send them to hell!_

Witches. The word was vindictive, full of hate and fear. That was what she and her clan were. Witches, those who used their knowledge of nature and its powers to accomplish wonders without the self-destructive fetters of technology, scientists in their most primitive form– but monsters to all others.

Her 'friends' suddenly came to mind. They weren't really friends. More like companions, since they were all on the same team. But they were alike in that their loved ones had been lost and they themselves persecuted by those who didn't know better. She pictured them in her mind as she had seen last: Macchi, the hyper-energetic redhead who couldn't stop moving or fiddling with her broom; their blue-haired chain-smoking team leader Kanna; and herself. They had the distinction of being the only three women ever in their group– _scratch that_, the girl corrected herself.

There was a fourth. It was that woman, the scary one who dressed like a priest, who was as much an enemy as she was their ally. The Grim Reaper, colder than a frozen fish and whose hatred of that X-Laws guy Marco was far more than everyone else's, even their leader. Rune Minor that was her name. The girl disliked and avoided her as much as possible; she was sure she and everyone else were secretly loathed in return by that stand-offish ex-Druid.

One of them was the boy from the Patch, the spy/traitor hidden within until the last critical moment. To tell the truth, she liked him. Though he acted like he didn't think much of her, he wasn't as bad as some of the others. Like that little ratty Lego figure twerp who kept telling everyone about things he shouldn't stick his nonexistent nose into. If it were up to her, the girl would have thrown that Opacho off a cliff or shot him in his heart– if he had one, the weasel. But she'd never do that to Nichrome. Never. Not even if their leader told her to.

And finally she came to dwell upon their leader, the one person who had mattered until so recently, their hope for the future.

As the sun was to our world, so was he to her.

And just as the sun sets into the horizon at the advent of night, so had he left: In a blaze of glory.

**  
**"Hao-_sama_," she murmured, and then she was lonelier than ever.

**  
**It was the noise that warned her. A city is a cacophony of noise, meaningless sounds. Hearing something faint in the bustling concentration is well nigh impossible. But the human ear is quite underestimated. And sometimes, people just have the luck.

If you could call it luck.

At first, she ignored it, thinking it was nothing, lacking a name to put upon it. When it came again, she slowed herself down just a bit. After the third time, she stopped.

There it was, again. There was no mistaking the sound of footsteps or the faint form in the growing dark shuffling towards her.

Her enemy.

Her pursuer.

Her nightmare.

Fear began to seize her in its iron clamp, the bitter constrictive tang rising up her throat. It seeped through the cracks of her armor, eating away at her like stomach acid. She fought to keep herself from succumbing to panic, forced herself to retain the mask she confronted the world with but found herself failing, her breathing speeding up, the adrenaline tensing her entire body for fight or flight, her small frame shuddering.

All the while, her mind was screaming at her to run for her life.

But she had done enough of that. She didn't want to turn away and escape. She wanted to fight. She _had_ to fight, lest she completely lose her convictions of old and return to that little girl who watched helpless as her family burned at the stake, not unless she wished to witness again how her beloved leader fell in battle without her at his side, unable to help. She'd never forgive herself if she did that. Fighting back was the only thing she could do for herself and for them.

But she'd done enough of that, too.

One last sideshow played within her mind, one last distraction before her battle terrible claimed her soul at last.

"_Hao-sama__…"_

The girl who was Marion Phauna turned around to face her nightmares.

**  
A Word From Sheo**

_ManKin_ readers and writers, rejoice. I'm back, and so are the Romancers.

This new Romancers arc is focused on one non-canonical potential pairing. _Potential_ is the word to watch. I'm still developing this story, even as I write. Watching local TV station GMA-7 again broadcast _Shaman King_ on weekends while I'm at it gives me a lot of inspiration for new stuff I'd like to try out. I'll be breaking grounds and set tradition while at it, yes, but let's just see what will happen, eh?

This chapter dwells on phlegmatic and easily bored Marion Phauna, Mari to fans and most popular member of the _Hanagumi_. She's one half of the main pairing I'm featuring, among other side pairings. The other half of the couple appears in the next chapter. And I'm not sticking to tradition, but please, give it some thought.

Up next: Familiar faces, familiar stories, familiar fears best left forgotten. Update schedule might be irregular; please bear with me.

To my friends and reviewers on Enjoy once more.


	3. Yoh

Asakura Yoh yawned. "So warm," he chuckled to himself.

It was a warm night that signaled the end of a warmer day. Summertime had come to Japan, and it showed in many ways. Songbirds chirped their merry melodies all day long. Students discarded their insulative long-sleeved tunics for lighter wear. Sometimes the heat was stifling. Air-conditioning and electric fans remedied that, but some places lacked such advanced comforts despite Japan being a nation where high tech was the norm rather than the exception.

One of those places was Funbari Onsen. Yoh's home was either an old-fashioned inn or an equally ancient shrine. Most people decided it was a mix of both, and it showed in the generally spartan furnishings and décor. Rustic was both accurate and a complement. Construction was mostly the traditional wood and paper, though newer building materials made up the bathroom and kitchen. There was electricity and gas and running water and television (but no cable). There was precious little else in the way of modern luxuries, but it was quite a comfortable home for the six living people and numerous nonliving ones who made it their home.

Yes: Nonliving occupants. Ghosts, if we are to be precise.

Not that they made the place horrid or unlivable. In fact, they were pretty useful. They even acted a lot like normal living people. It was just that they were all dead. Quite dead; Sir Nicholas Porpington the Third (or you could just call him Nearly Headless Nick) style-dead. No big deal on that, though, as all of the occupants were in one way or another attuned to ghosts.

Shamans were weird folk.

So, despite the ghosts and Shamans and everything else to the contrary, Funbari Onsen seemed that little bit of paradise tucked in a corner of a world that badly needed it.

Oh, we forgot to mention one last thing –person, actually– that puts away every good thing we said about Funbari Onsen and turns it into a hellhole, if not Hell itself.

You see, there was Kyouyama Anna.

**  
**_"Yoh, the food has run out. Go and buy groceries."_

_"But, Anna, it's late already. The shops are probably closed."_

_"Then go buy from the ones still open."_

_"But they're probably closed, too."_

_"Then go buy from the vending machines."_

_"But there's no vending machine around that sells food."_

_"Yoh."_

_"Yes, Anna?"_

_"Are you intentionally making me angry?"_

_Short run of scary silence follows._

_"I'll be back with the groceries in thirty minutes."_

_"Good. Now, move it. I'm hungry as it is."_

_"Yes, ma'am."_

_"And take Shorty with you while you're at it."_

_"Don't call me 'Shorty'–"_

_"Or what?"_

_"Nothing."_

_"I thought so." A pause. "Why are the two of you still here?"_

_"We're going now!"_

_"Yes' ma'am!"_

**  
**Grimacing at the just-recent memory, Yoh turned to his poor panting friend. "You okay, Manta?"

"Yeah, I'm just a little sleepy. Man, why does the food have to run out at this time?"

"Horohoro's the one to blame for that. He eats enough for three people."

"Make that five."

"I guess." Yoh pulled out a locket watch. His handy-dandy 'Can do!' Oracle Bell, contrary to popular belief, did not tell the current time, thus necessitating the separate clock, a gift from a certain green-haired dowser and his blue-haired angel. No insult meant to the Patch, but they never really were that clever. "Let's hurry. Anna's probably getting impatient by now."

"Right."

The two ran off into the deepening darkness… and into a future they had no reason to expect…

**  
The Romancers**

**Set Two**

**  
Spiritless Poppet And Shaman King**

**  
Disclaimer:** Sheo Darren (meaning, me), owns only what I have created: My original characters and the story general. I don't profess own Shaman King or any other familiar anime, movie, novel, song or others that is already owned by someone else.

**  
_Chapter Two_**

**Yoh**

**  
**It should be said of our hero that he is still the lovable easygoing guy we all know and whom all girls adore. If there was an eternal constant in life, it would probably be Asakura Yoh. Always cheerful, always concerned about things in a clumsily distant way, always himself as the most powerful –and one of the most handsome, too– Shaman in the world: That's our Yoh. The years may pass, but he will stay the same. He'd be the same old Yoh a million millennia into the future; whatever kind of radical unpredictability Fate springs upon us, he'd always be. He never changes. He never will.

As for the idea that Anna might be able to 'reform' him (in the way a state penitentiary 'reforms' prisoners– though in Yoh's case, the issue is more like slavery), it would be wise to remember the old schoolboy poser about an irresistible force meeting an unmovable object. In more ways than one, too...

**  
**The encounter came as a bad surprise to Yoh and Manta. They'd been making good time already and were just a minute away from the last store that was still open _and_ had fresh provisions available when the figure seemed to rise out of the very shadows.

They skidded to a halt. The nearest streetlamp was about three meters distant from their backs and probably needed a new light bulb, the illumination it cast being dim and shorter than usual. The next was six meters in front of them, two meters behind the unexpected specter in front of them, and certainly needed repair, being dead as a dodo. Thus the effect was that the two friends were just within the light of the operational streetlamp, their shadows harsh as the mysterious person before them and the shadows that obscured him– or her.

Duly frightened of this apparition, Manta squeaked and fell back a few paces.

"Yoh…"

"I know."

The brunette himself was cautious. He'd encountered far too many enemies in the previous two years, especially during the Shaman Fight. A number of Hao's henchmen were still at large, including some of the worst and most dangerous of them, like Luchist Rasso. The X-Laws were conducting mopping-up operations against these remnants, but the _Soldados_ were only a few people and the world a large place to hide in.

In the dark, they could hear a small voice's murmuring.

**  
**It had all passed so quickly: The fear, the violence, the numbness and the pain. Out of the fire and into the abyss in just a moment's thrust. A few seconds was all it took to leave shelter to face danger in the eye, and then only a minute or so back into what was relative safety. Only a few heartbeats worth– but an eternity it seemed to her, lost in a daze, her whole burning from scrutiny without and from desperation within.

And then she was out of that dank dark corridor that was Death and back into the half-shadows that was the world of the living.

Somehow, she'd have preferred the former.

There were people there, staring at her, wondering who she was and why she was here. Almost immediately after that realization was her hatred for them, the old paranoia reaffirmed. What were they to act like that? She was superior to them all. She was a higher being than them. He said it so himself. She believed in him far more than even he himself could ever bring himself to.

Even now that he was gone, even though she was as alone as she could ever be, he was always still with her.

**  
**There was just too little light and too much distance involved, or else it would have been easy making out her features. That she was a girl was established simply by the way she stood, a feminine mannerism that no man could really copy outright, anime tradition or no anime tradition. Yoh had been hanging around too many girls for way too long not to notice. There was always a sway to Pilika's walk, a fact that mesmerized quite a few boys –Tao Ren included and especially so, even on pain of death from said person on what he'd deny like mad– and which also made her dear _onii-chan_ wishing for a chainsaw to happily dispose of admirers. Tamao had it, though she was less obvious about it and tried so badly on the wrong targets. Tao Jun _definitely_ had it (and woe to those who dare invoke her _otouto_'s wrath!) Anna and Jeanne had it, though it was death to point it out to the former. That it was also death to point it out to the latter was true, but the difference was that the said _itako_ herself would be the one to kill you, while with the Iron Maiden it would be her jealous boyfriend and her overprotective adoptive father who'd murder you.

The girl seemed to be in bad shape, barely keeping herself on her feet, her body swaying uncertainly this way and then that before any semblance of self-control returned. There was no obvious sign of injury on her. Still, her current state of weakness was glaring– and it was a point for caution. The cornered and injured animal is a vicious thing, the last and least one wish to provoke.

One last thing: This girl was a Shaman. What was more, the aura was quite recognizable, though Yoh could not place her identity at once, not right now. The memory seemed so long ago, resisting any and all his attempts to dredge it out into something understandable. All he could remember was that he knew her, she knew him, and they were not exactly the best of friends.

But there had been a time they could call their very own, when for that short span all that mattered and had meaning was each other.

_Who are you?_ He wanted to ask, but he couldn't._ Who are you?_

_Who are you?_

**  
**She realized what she was facing just as they had done so. Shamans. The feeling was familiar. _Furyoku_ the very spirit of life in everything that existed, was a Shaman's greatest source of power. From the youth before her was power more than a match for anything of this world and of the other. It was power that she knew very well.

And then she realized the only person she could think of with this kind of power was…

It was _him._

It was nearly too late to matter– but matter it did, and in ways that could never be measured, save in the end.

**  
**He heard her murmur something beneath her breath but couldn't discern her words, so softly she spoke was as to be unintelligible. Somewhere in the back of Yoh's mind, her voice and words seemed to resonate clearly. But the general idea of it was vague and kept on slipping out of his grasp.

**  
**All that was her thought, _it can't be. It can't be him. He's gone. Forever gone. Mari saw him with my own eyes. It just can't be._

In that very instant the moon emerged from the cloak of clouds that was her garment, her silvery radiance bathing the world beneath with her special favor just as the sun earlier sparked the first and last warmth of the day.

And then she saw plainly, and yet what she saw wasn't all that there was to it.

But it was enough.

**  
**He was startled when the moonlight fell upon them, finally revealing their opposition. She was a ragged-looking girl in even shabbier clothing that had once been a black sundress, torn up in many places, only a few patches made. She looked like she'd been through a war –one she all too obviously had lost– of which her hair was a casualty as well. Only part of her hairdo had survived, and badly at that, a messy remnant of perhaps an elaborate ponytail variation. And was that blood on her face, or was it only a trick of half-shadows?

It was upon her eyes that his attention was riveted. He'd seen them before, quiet yet strong eyes, purposeful, driven, mirrors and perfect partners to her personality. But now they were as distant from that old image as the moon was to the sun, almost utterly devoid of even the shreds of humanity so evident before in her. It was as if the old her had been brutally suppressed– no, _erased_, and in her stead a colorless simulacrum had been substituted, a lifeless copy that could never amount to the original.

And despite the shattering transformation she had undergone since they last met, Yoh recognized who this girl was.

"You…_"_

**  
**While her appearance puzzled him, he struck her dumb without either knowing why.

When Kanzaki Hitomi, the girl of the Mystic Moon, bearer of the eyes that saw, was confronted by all of the wonder and splendor of Escaflowne's Gaia, she asked herself once: _Is it all just a dream?_

_No,_ was her answer. _It was real._

What was real to the girl before this boy? What wasn't real? What was the defining line between reality and illusion?

Another old story was the answer: _The Velveteen Rabbit_, so far into her childhood and her past that it didn't even remain a vague memory, now came back clearly.

**  
**_"What is Real?" asked the Velveteen Rabbit one day._

_"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When someone loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."_

**  
**_Love_. She thought she'd never think of that word again. She thought the word died when her family did. She thought it would never again return after he left.

But now, just as before, the winds of Fate changed hands once more.

_I'm not Real, not yet, not truly, not for a long time. No one had loved me for a long enough time to make me Real. They all went away so quickly. They didn't linger to love me. Some didn't choose to love me at all._

_But maybe, just maybe…_

_Maybe I can be Real at last._

_Maybe he can make me Real._

_Because for me,_ the girl admitted to herself,_ for me he is Real._

She reached out to him, commanded her arm to rise and grasp for him. The short distance between them seemed suddenly sheer, her numb leaden arm resisting all her efforts, forbidding her. Frantic, she gathered all her remaining strength and attempted again. Again she failed. Before she could try for a third time, her flagging body nearly gave out on her.

_No…_

_No…_

_No…_

Before her, the image of the boy whom she sought seemed to fade away into the distance.

Just like before.

_No!_

And then, through some last reservoir she discovered and unleashed with reckless abandon, through the fading force of her will that somehow held her together one last time, her words confessed the burden her heart bore for so long even as her body lost its battle.

"Hao-_sama_."

As she fell at last, the most beautiful thing happened.

He was there.

**  
**Yoh caught the fainting girl easily. She seemed to weigh so little in his arms that his first impression was of a scarecrow, so thin and frail she was. The ragged flaxen mess of her hair was plastered against his chest, large unkempt portions undone from whatever hairstyle she had favored. Her skin burned hot where he held her and where her dirty yet pretty face was pressed upon him, the severe fever already rampaging unchecked.

He said so to Manta, deciding then and there what he would do do, completely forgetting what he was supposed to in light of a new crisis. His friend was aghast. It was certainly the way Yoh did things: Quick, decisive, without a second thought or a moment's doubt. It was also the same way they'd usually get into trouble of the worst kind.

But that didn't matter. Forgotten was the warm night. Ignored were the last vaguely mumbled words that somehow worried him. The hospital of his convalescence two years ago was only a few minutes' walk away. With Manta's help, he shifted the semiconscious girl onto his back, making sure to keep a good grip on the back of her knees so she wouldn't fall. Then, the rising heat of her arms around his neck a reminder of what little time remained to them, Yoh ran for all he was worth, on the wing and into the night like an angel in flight.

As they took off, Manta gave the food store they passed a regretful look. The shop was finally closing even as they left it behind. He and Yoh had gone out for vegetables and fish; what they got was a sick girl. What they were _going_ _to get_ afterwards was a lot of trouble, though even Manta was having a hard trouble thinking just how much more badly things could get.

**  
**At the Asakura residence–

"Yoh…"

–Anna isn't happy at all.

**  
**Riding securely upon his back, the wind cooling her face, the girl felt herself drifting away into the shadowy dream-world that had once entrapped a fair-haired girl who was as lost as she herself was. Without thinking she tightened her arms around him, feeling the increase in his strides. Despite the rapid patter of running feet, the quick intakes of breath and the unwelcome pleas of the pitiable kid who chased after them unsuccessfully, everything for her seemed so unnaturally quiet.

And that was what told her that everything was all right. It was all right now.

Mari fell asleep.

**  
A Word From Sheo**

I will be honest to my readers. I found this chapter very hard to write. Conceptualizing it took me several days; the actual writing itself spanned a week. A partial explanation is that college is wearing me down. Another is that I'm not as young as I was a year or two ago, which makes me envious of incredibly proliferate authors such as syaoran no hime, not to mention the younger energy-laden authors with lots of time in their hands, like Fluff Inc and Apple-_chan_. I commiserate with you, Setsumi-_san_; my typing just can't keep up with my mind. (Mari, please don't shoot me, I'm trying my best here...)

Compared to my previous work _Iron Maiden and Dowser Knight, Spiritless Poppet and Shaman King_ is a work in progress. I had already laid down the concrete groundwork of the former when I published the first chapters, and although the ending was dramatically different from my original plans (Miss Nagumo has the honor of inspiring me so) the story basically remained the same. But _Poppet_ doesn't have such luxuries. That is a good thing and a bad thing. _Poppet_ is open to input and suggestions from you, but it will be more difficult to write for me. I will probably wing this throughout the whole story, but I promise to try adhering to a regular update every two weeks, preferably posting the next chapter by late Saturday evening (Philippine time).

I haven't figured out how to end _Poppet_ satisfactorily. The main pairing is potentially Yoh-Mari. 'Potentially' is the key word, as I've already said before. I might regress back to Yoh-Anna and Nichrome-Mari (or Hao-Mari). 'Might' is the operative word. I can always do Yoh-Mari and Hao-Anna. If so, are there any alternate pairing suggestions for Nichrome? Please limit yourselves to normal heterosexual (read: boy-girl) pairings. Otherwise, all your suggestions will be duly considered, and credit given to the most plausible that I will accept.

Thanks for your badly-needed support.


	4. Lullaby

_Blues and bays, dapples and grays, running in the night_

**  
**Within the darkness of her lonely heart and numb mind and weary soul, she hid from the world and slowly died.

**  
**_All the pretty little ponies gonna be there when you arise_

**  
**Confronted by what she could not escape, confused by what she cannot understand, she totally lost herself. She retreated into the fastness of her inner fortress, her lonely island in the middle of the deep dark sea. On all sides besieged, her chances of surviving dwindling steadily at every ticking of the clock. She herself wholly connived upon her own ruin, finding it easier to destroy her self and die than to struggle against Fate and live.

**  
**_Hush-a-bye, don't you cry. Go to sleep, my little baby._

**  
**She didn't want to go on anymore. She just didn't want to anymore. She wanted to lie down on cold stone and never get up again. She wanted to sleep forever in the cradle of her own misery, lost, forgotten, a mere nothing.

**  
**_When you wake, you shall have all the pretty little ponies…_

**  
**Marion Phauna wanted to die.

**  
The Romancers**

**Set Two**

**  
Spiritless Poppet And Shaman King**

**  
Disclaimer:** Sheo Darren (meaning, me), owns only what I have created: My original characters and the story general. I don't profess own Shaman King or any other familiar anime, movie, novel, song or others that is already owned by someone else. Example: The _"Hush-a-bye"_ lines are taken from the _Martian Successor Nadesico_ fan ficiton _Lullabies_ by obsession171.

**  
Chapter Three**

**Lullaby**

**  
**The hospital was well known to Yoh and Manta, the pair of them having been confined here at least once before; in the former's case, all courtesy Tao Ren and then Faust VIII. Though the memories engendered weren't exactly good, the medical services were reliable. That was what was important, after all. What good is a hospital that cannot heal people– or, on a more cruelly teasing note, one with mad doctor Faust (_Guilty Gear_ or _ManKin_, it doesn't really make much of a difference, they're both scary) in it?

But even if the latter situation was present, they would have no other choice. Mari was delirious with the fever, her small body burning fiercely from within in a seemingly losing fight against whatever sickness it was. Besides, if worst came to worst, Faust was a pretty good doctor in spite of his necrophilia and obsession with the occult.

He was a friend.

Speaking of money, it was when they were asked for a deposit that they ran into trouble. Yoh didn't have much money in his name or person and would never get richer anytime soon, Shaman King or no Shaman King. Right now, all he had on hand was the cash given to him for his errand earlier, a mere pittance barely just enough to cover groceries for supper. Anna always was stingy with the greenbacks.

Manta came in useful here. Having the son of the president of a wealthy corporation as your best friend is invaluable. Though not old enough to own credit cards (as the typical rich guy in the typical anime situation would), a call or two to the proper places was enough. Thus, after bureaucratic tie-downs were resolved in record time, the unconscious Mari swiftly went into a non-priority ward for examination and treatment.

Now was the first half of the hard part: Waiting. Manta did himself better than he initially feared. Though half his fingernails were gone and a few millimeters of his shoes worn off and out through pacing around in circles, he managed to keep calmer than usual. It wasn't a life-and-death situation, right? She wasn't going to die of a tiny little fever, right?

_Ebola, dengue, malaria,_ the sinister words echoed inside his mind. _Scarlet fever, rabies, schizophrenia, psychosis, possession of extremely nasty spirit that manifested in bad ways, the ring, the eye, __Texas__ chainsaw massacre..._

After only a few seconds of this, Manta wanted to cry. He already was doing so, but it was only a little stream of tears he was forcing himself to shed. The futility of life…

In contrast and as usual, the 'master of bumming was in his element. All right, fan girls, all right. It is mean and inaccurate to call Yoh a bum. Just because he likes to goof off and take things easy doesn't merit the moniker. Laidback would be a better term. Calm is more like it. Cool would definitely be the word. Besides, unlike poor Manta, he had an I-Pod full of his favorite MP3s to keep himself entertained. Lyserg and Jeanne had sent him the gift several months ago.

Halfway through the solemnly sad music of _Duvet_, Yoh wondered how his X-Laws friends were. In his heart, he silently wished them well.

**  
**After several hours, the doctor brought good news and bad news. A combination of exhaustion, plus lack of proper nourishment and sleep were the main reasons for Mari's weakness. It was nothing a lot of bed rest and good food couldn't fix. That was the good news.

The bad news was that so bleak Mari's state had become that her fever was running unchecked throughout her entire body. Moreover, antibiotics were out of the question. Not only was there no disease-causing organism to blame –a series of blood tests had provided that fact–, but Mari herself was somehow resisting treatment. She had vomited out each and every liquid they had given her, even the medicine. Antibiotic injections didn't work.

"She isn't just fighting _it_," the doctor admitted with just a little bit of hopelessness, meaning the disease, "She's fighting _us_. Absurd as it sounds, she is fighting our very attempts to save her life. Her body is somehow rejecting every medicine we give her. It's like she doesn't want to be saved."

Yoh asked what would happen if Mari managed to get better somehow.

"We'll discharge her from the fever ward, of course. A lot of rest, fluids and food should bring her back to normal."

That worried Manta. A fully-healed homicidal doll-user shaman girl who referred to herself in the third person and who chased after Yoh's head with a puppet/spirit/gun on orders of Yoh's evil twin brother? Just the thing they need. It was not like Manta wanted anyone to be in such a bad fix, even if they were bad and all. The boy only wanted some peace in his remaining lifetime, not to mention having his remaining lifespan increased by a big margin.

He told Yoh as much later on, when Mari had been transferred to a private ward. Manta was bone-tired and quite willing to drop everything –including himself– and imitate the practically comatose girl. But Yoh didn't want to leave just yet. He felt responsible for the helpless Mari and couldn't bear the thought of deserting anyone in need. It meant staying at the hospital for the night– and perhaps longer in uncomfortable chairs that would twist their necks into pretzels (using the bed was a no-no, since it was already occupied by a sick girl). It meant more suffering for Manta, already a glutton for such treatment, but who had limits to what he could take. It meant fatigue and nervousness and discomfort for one whole night.

It meant standing up for someone as likely to kill you as the sun rose and set every day.

But Yoh stood pat on his decision. "We found her and brought her here, after all. We can't just abandon here. No one deserves to be left alone," he concluded softly. "No one does, not even someone like her."

His gaze fell on the peacefully sleeping Mari. "Especially like her…"

And Manta wasn't one to abandon his friends, either. So, despite his better opinions on the matter and being willing to do anything for a comfortable bed and blankets, he stayed with Yoh. He fell asleep soon enough on the same torture chair that he earlier regarded as badly as life imprisonment inside the needle-tipped casket of the Iron Maiden, but he stayed.

Yoh kept awake somehow. His I-Pod helped there. His choice of songs for today weren't exactly so. They were all sad ones, not exactly the kind to keep people awake. One, in fact, was _Lullaby_ from _Noir._ If there was a contest for the number one song whose title makes people think it's a sleepy song, _Lullaby_ won hands down.

But the strangeness of it all was that he didn't fall asleep, not in the sense of sleep defined by experience and common sense. He did feel his consciousness slip free of his body, relegated to an observer's role in the way dreams do to those who experience them. Time seemed to both slow down and speed up. But at the same time Yoh was still wholly aware of everything that was happening to him– and everything he was doing.

He walked towards Mari and sat himself on the edge of her bed, gazing at the feverish girl in a way both distant and intense. Slowly, surely, his hand found her burning one. Yoh felt her fading spirit recoil from his own touch in astonishment, suspicious and frightened of him. He waited no more. His own spiritual power flowed from his soul and into Mari, a trickle that quickly turned into a stream and then a river of healing power.

Her _furyoku_ resisted fiercely at the 'invasion', but Yoh did not let up. If he did not do this now, Mari might most certainly die. He poured more and more of himself into her. Each time he was blocked, he found a way around the impediment– or forced through it. Each time, a little more of his self became part of Mari. Each time, a little more life came back into her.

And then, for some reason, Mari simply stopped struggling against him, letting his _furyoku_ through with not a shadow of resistance, hungrily drawing upon the energy he lent her as a man dying of thirst would gulp down water with a passion. He let his output taper down, conserving his own strength, not needing to fight her anymore. Together, their latent spiritual energies performed what medical science would call impossible: A miracle.

All throughout this, inside his mind, inside him, the song playing on his I-Pod danced upon Yoh's lips.

**  
**Within the dying of her faded self, he came.

He was a shining being that seared through the darkness to reach down to her. He was the dawn that ended her perpetual night, the benign lightning bolt that parted the sky, the mountain that sought to kiss the clouds that passed by. He was the bridge between the gulf she had allowed to form between her and the world of light and life

At first she didn't want to have anything to do with him. She wanted to be left to her own failed devices and tortured dreams. She wanted to be all alone in her suffering. She wanted everything to end now. She wanted to die.

But he did not stop, and instead came closer.

Then she tried to keep him out. Flinging the remnants of her ebbing strength in one last desperate series of measures, she tried to stop him completely before he could establish even a toehold. Failing that, she sought to slow him down by whatever it took to do so, fighting him every step of the way, giving ground grudgingly.

Still he came, closer and closer to her.

She ran for all she was worth, away from him, away from all he represented and what he was trying to share with her. He caught up to her with not much effort, far stronger was he in so many ways– and therefore making her unworthy of him. She cried, screamed, begged, threw tantrums, pleaded, swore and all. He ignored her and finally trapped her. Even then she would not give up, curling up into a ball that refused to let anyone's touch come upon her innermost self, the only thing she had left, itself disappearing.

There were only a few moments more left in her to continue, and then the bleak end would come at last.

**  
**_Leave me, leave me alone; just let me die in peace…_

**  
_No._**

**  
**Something happened. Was that the feel of wetness upon her face? What that something that brushed upon her cheek so briefly in a way that tingled and tickled? Was the gentle strength in the arms that held her real? Was the warm presence indeed here, before her? Was this moment truly what she thought it was? Was the wonderment his given gift, or was it hers reawakened?

Or could it be theirs both?

Suddenly, her heart started to beat again.

Suddenly, everything was all right.

Suddenly, she believed once more.

Suddenly, she wanted to live again.

**  
**_If not for my self, I will live for him…_

**  
**She reached for his hand– and came back to life…

**  
**Early morning was just beginning when Yoh woke up. Though it had only been up for less than half an hour, already the sun was warming the cold frigid world beneath with its golden light, the same that just a day ago touched upon a girl so lost in the dark now waking up the young man who had just saved her life and her soul, even as it touched her once more.

He felt someone pressed up close to him. It was Mari, her arms wrapped tight around the arm he had used as conduit for his _furyoku_ transfer, her breathing light and easy upon his face. Yoh decided he must have fallen asleep at one point, drained from the effort of lending her _furyoku_. Since he was in reach, Mari had unconsciously but promptly used him as a pillow. He blushed at their closeness and was slow in disentangling himself from her.

Her fever was gone. She slept so soundly that even when he gingerly extracted his arm from her possessive grip on it, she stirred only slightly and murmured inaudibly. She was tired but healed of the sickness in body, mind, heart and soul. And it was just as much attributable to Mari herself as it was to him. He gave her new strength, but it was she who finally chose to accept.

Yoh briefly smiled at Mari before he went to wake Manta. Thus he missed seeing the faintest of replies upon pale pink lips, sleep or no sleep.

The younger boy had a bad backache and a worse headache, nothing a hot bath couldn't cure. His friend said he deserved the reward for putting up with him and Mari.

"No protest there," grumbled Manta."

Yoh chuckled.

The door to their room quickly but quietly opened–

"A bad morning start makes the day bad," Manta mumbled half-wisely, half-tiredly. "And I have the bad feeling it's about to get worse."

–and closed just as silently as it opened.

"Just how can it get worse?" Yoh somewhat amusedly asked.

"Yoh."

The two boys froze.

Literally.

The room froze as well. It really did. Indeed, _anything_ would do the same if the exact tone and level of frigidly cold disapproval was used by the very person standing right in front of them the way the World's Number One Ice Queen did– which happened to be the exact same person herself.

Guess who had finally arrived, who was quite hungry from having had no dinner to eat last night and very much, who could have frightened Asakura Hao off if she had the mind to, and who was very, _very_ **disappointed** with Yoh?

Kyouyama Anna.

**  
A Word From Sheo**

Recently, I had this very bad dream. All my _ManKin_ readers had appeared out of nowhere, run me down, cornered me and began piling up their disappointment on me for having failed to fulfill my promise of updating every two weeks. There was Setsumi-saying "I have an ax to grind on _you_, Sheo"; Nagumo mentioning Justicar and The Kindly One as agents of punishment; a chicken dancing the Ketchup Song (honest, there really was one!); Mari and Tamao and Jeanne-_chan_ crying because of me; and –most eerie of all–

**Fluff:** _Walang_Eah-Lavi? No Eah-Lavi? Sheo_-nii-san_, _hidoi__... hidoi desu… baka!_

And then I woke up.

The dream really scared me. Really. I still shudder from the thought of it, even as I'm typing these lines. Not that you, dear readers, are scary. I even imagine Jess-_chan_ is very cute in person (regrettably, her _nii__-san_ is not). But if you ever had a dream where a chicken was doing the Ketchup Song dance, would you really be so sanguine? I knew you'd shudder, too.

I am really sorry I was unable to update sooner. My college studies are driving me nuts, eating away my time and stressing me out. Plus, writer's block again bothered me, even worse than before. Looking back on my high school years, I wonder how the heck I was able to regularly update my old _Iron Maiden and Dowser Knight_ story, and then I realize I'm getting old. Sooner or later, Fluff is going to start calling me Grandpa Sheo.

(Please, Jess-_chan_, don't. )

Again, I promise to do my best and try updating more regularly. Maybe two weeks from now; maybe not. Until then, enjoy this little piece of _ManKin_.


	5. Home Reloaded

One sunny and not-so-fine day at Funbari Onsen…

"God, it's _so_ hot! I can't take this anymore!"

"You're one for complaining, Tokagero. You're a ghost; I'm alive."

"Would you like some water, Ryu-_san_?"

"Ah, thank you, Tamao-_chan_! You are so kind!"

"You're welcome."

"_Nii-chan_, are they here yet?"

"Pirika, you've asked that question for, like, the hundredth millionth time in the last five minutes."

"You haven't answered my question."

A sigh of surrender: "No."

"Darn…"

The motley group gathered in front of the inn was not exactly meant to inspire first-time visitors to Japan expecting to see a microcosm of the nation's finest qualities and people. There were two nature lovers, one motorcycle gangster and one uber-lovably-cute Pinkan Angel (guess who this is; I just love this moniker of hers!). There were also a monkey or lizard whose head was shaped like a banana, a diminutive nature spirit with a leaf for an umbrella, a fox and a raccoon who were next to useless, and a family of ghosts that served as sniveling informants of the tyrannical _itako_ Ice Queen who lorded over Funbari Onsen as if she was the reincarnation of Hitler, Stalin, Emperor Palpatine, Darth Vader Sauron, Saruman and the old Marco Innocenzo Testarossa.

(It is immediately apparent that the author is making fun of Kyouyama Anna. He does so at his own peril. Sheo Darren never really wanted to live forever, anyway. )

Pirika was bugging her _nii-chan_ as if death threats and complaints could hurry the day up– though it certainly didn't bother Kororo. Beside the siblings was Bokuto Ryu, downing the last contents of the water bottle Tamamura Tamao wisely brought along and just as kindly offered. Ice had been provided by Horohoro, who was all too happy for any excuse to focus on anything aside from his annoying sister. Besides, he liked Tamao and hoped in secret that she liked him, too, despite her obsession for Yoh and all.

Then, a savior out of the blue: A taxi cab, wreathed by a faint halo of dry dust, materialized in the horizon.

The group's joyful cheer was cut short when the taxi roared past them without even slowing down. The only thing it left was the filth it kicked up with its passing. The term 'eat my dust' was promptly conveyed to the Funbari people in most direct and ironic terms.

"Even that fanatic X-Laws guy would lose his faith in God if he were here," half-grumbled, half-choked the disgusted Pirika.

(So far away, Marco sneezed.)

Finally, after what seemed an eternity in the baking heat of the summer sun, a number of false alarms and their accompanying dust devils –not to mention Pirika's tireless tirade, but even she was tapering off for lack of breath and drink–, yet another taxi appeared.

"If this car doesn't stop," sorely growled Ryu, planning to vent out his frustration with a (Very) Big (Sore) Thumb if this was another disappointment in the works.

"I'll tell Anna off for you," Pirika encouraged him.

Horohoro groaned, even as Tamao sighed.

"_Kami-sama__, taskette…"_

The taxi stopped.

Everyone stared at it in disbelief.

The taxi stayed there.

"It isn't leaving," the disbelieving Pirika mumbled.

Relieved, Tamao broke into a wide smile, even as Ryu shut off the offending Big Thumb. Horohoro pranced around as if he was high on caffeine, mainly because he _was_.

"Oh, thank you, Great Spirits and the Almighty Lima Bean King! Thank you for looking upon this poor soul with kind eyes and sweet breath!"

So saying, the Ainu boy kissed the ground in joy.

It was Pirika's turn to groan.

Out of the taxi's front passenger seat tumbled Manta, tripping over himself in haste and looking for the entire world as if he was being chased by the Spirit of Fire– or worse. For what was the longest hour of his short and traumatic life, he had endured the silent war of glares being waged in the rear seats. Even just glimpsing it in the rear-view mirror chilled him. Not to mention the conflicting auras that, invisible to human eyes, spilled over to the front where he was seated and turned him into a noncombatant casualty.

(Remember in the previous story how poor Millie got caught in the Rune Minor-Marco Testarossa war, between fire and ice? Manta could relate to her experience very well.)

He had no idea why Yoh, who was right in the middle of that war, was unaffected. Maybe being a Shaman made him immune, or maybe it was the I-Pod. Yes, most probably was the I-Pod. A sacred I-Pod with unlimited battery power thanks to its ultracompact fusion reactor, an I-Pod blessed by the Pope himself using consecrated tears solicited from Iron Maiden Jeanne, concentrated liquid holiness whose searing light purged the world of evil, an invincible shield against even Ice Queen Anna's sheer domineering might.

_You're losing your grip on reality, Manta, you're losing it pretty badly– but considering what you went through…_

Unconsciously dainty as ever, Tamao opened the rear cabin's door for her cousin, who regally alighted from her seat with a grump.

Anna did not look pleased.

Then again, she never really did look pleased. But this time, the _itako_ was decidedly **_dis_**pleased.

And a displeased Anna was the last thing anyone –even Asakura Hao– would want to face.

"Anna-_san_?"

Her cousin rewarded Tamao's inquisitiveness with the proverbial cold shoulder. Yoh, however, was effusive enough for his fiancée and friends. He should; he'd managed to sneak a nap during the trip, no mean feat considering he was stuck between the 'devil and the deep blue sea' for about an hour. Probably was the I-Pod, as Manta said. Great is the power of Iron Maiden Jeanne-_sama_

(Next to Marco, Jeanne sneezed.)

We all know who the 'devil' is. But no, it isn't our lovably arrogant resident _akuma_ (fan girls go _aww_. There were things that Hao would never even dream of doing. And despite Anna being an _itako_ and all, there were things she _did_ do that were best left unsaid and unimagined.

Besides, Hao wasn't here– at least, not yet.

(**Jess:** Ooh, foreshadowing! _Nii-chan_you are so cool.)

"_Minna__-san!_ We've got a guest with us. Please be nice to her, okay?"

Anna came close to grimacing at the way her fiancé just cheerfully belted out the word 'guest'. Curious as to whom this newcomer was, everyone nodded. They had no idea yet what they were agreeing to.

Yoh turned back to their newest companion, who had not yet debarked. "We're here now. Come out and meet everyone."

There was a pregnant pause of silence and inaction. Then, gingerly, with all the hesitation and expectation of an explorer setting foot on uncharted territory, the girl stepped out of the taxi for everyone to see just who she was.

Horohoro gaped.

Pirika gasped.

Ryu recoiled.

Tamao stared.

_"Tadaima,"_ Yoh told Mari with his customary grin. "Welcome home."

**  
The Romancers**

**Set Two**

**  
Spiritless Poppet And Shaman King**

**  
Disclaimer:** Sheo Darren (meaning, me), owns only what I have created: My original characters and the story general. I don't profess to own Shaman King or any other familiar anime, movie, novel, song or others that is already owned by someone else.

**  
Chapter Four**

**Home**

**  
_Previously:_**

**_"Yoh."_******

Guess who had finally arrived, who was quite hungry from having had no dinner to eat last night, who could have frightened Asakura Hao off if she had the mind to, and who was very, _very_ **disappointed** with Yoh?

Kyouyama Anna.

"We are so dead," Manta mumbled.

The comment was not only very accurate, but also very nearly the last thing he said.

Anyone who has seen the series should be able to remember what Anna had done to Manta when Horohoro first arrived at Funbari Onsen. For those too traumatized by Anna to remember, it is what the author of this fan fiction humorously nicknamed the 'Oyamada Manta Missile'. For Manta, that moment will always be remembered with the rhetorical "Why Me?" Indeed, "Why Me?" was certainly the question of the moment and 'words of the day'. Everything else his brain is registering would be pain. That and the fact that the wall he hit head-on would need major repairs.

Luckily, he was still alive. For now...

Anna was without mercy, mainly because she was hungry. She had not only been abandoned, but abandoned _without food._ Tamao-_chan_ was a good cook, but even she couldn't do anything with only thin air to work with. The boys she had sent out to buy food had not returned at all. They didn't even call her. That was the worst kind of abandonment, ever: The ones that just simply forgot.

Hell hath no fury like an abandoned Anna without dinner.

She advanced menacingly on Yoh, who retreated in panic– until his back ran smack into the wall.

Yoh gulped.

Anna stomped right up to his face, breathing heavily on him while glaring point blank at full power.

**_"Yoh…"_**

"Wait, Anna, I can explain–"

**_"I'm sure you can."_** _Once you're dead_ was left unspoken. Anna didn't need to say it. She meant to kill him where he stood. Whether with her beads, her bare hands, or some other new diabolical method, it didn't matter. Yoh would most certainly be dead. After that, she'd probably forcibly summon his spirit from the netherworld in order to torment him further as her personal spectral stress reliever. Yoh still had nightmares about the horrifying state he had found his favorite rubber ducky bath toy: Unrecognizably mashed into a pulpy mass of orange plastic by You-Know-Who (and no, Voldemort is nothing compared to Anna.)

He did not want to end up like it.

But it was too late. He was going to die now. It would be a slow, painful death and an equally terrible afterlife. At least he had helped a girl regain her soul before he died. It wasn't much, but it was enough for him.

Knowing his life was at an end, Yoh prayed for a quick painless demise, however impossible that request was at Anna's hands.

**  
**"Hey."

Yoh froze.

Anna stopped in her tracks.

Manta regained conscious control of his nerves.

"Leave him alone."

It was Mari.

She was awake. Only the night before, she been at Death's door, had almost taken that final step through death– until a certain boy had brought her back to life with his own life force and a lullaby. Though not looking exactly perky, the blonde girl was alive and well enough. The wheaten mass of her hair lined her face in tousled waves even as it leaned across her brow, golden ivy creepers on a pale marble wall. Her bottle green eyes glowed intensely, the flames of her will for life reborn anew from last night and burning bright. She regarded Anna in the way a mongoose eyes a snake– or, more aptly, like how Rune and Marco demonstrate their mutual distaste for each other.

Anna did not look perturbed. She had nothing to fear from a hospital patient, much less one as bedraggled as this interloper. Indeed, she feared nothing– save one thing.

And that's a secret for now.

"Who's this?" she asked Yoh, making a point to spare Mari only the slightest of glances. "A new friend?"

"More like an old one," was her fiancé's sheepish answer. "We've met before, remember?"

"She doesn't look familiar." Again, the glance of scorn: "She doesn't look much, either."

Her offhand comment hit a nerve. Mari****wasn't just one of the touchier people on Hao's side of the Shaman Fight. She was also the most prone to boredom, an unsettling state of mind that, combined with a Power Spirit that served as a gun and a twitchy trigger-finger, contributed to the rather nervous way her allies regarded her with. You definitely did not want to rile Mari, not unless you had a death wish and longed for a painful death.

What's more, there was no lost love between her and Anna. A year ago, Hao dispatched the _Hanagumi_ after Yoh to impress upon his _otouto_ the importance of taking the Shaman Fight seriously. It was a field day for the threesome of Mari, Mathilda 'Macchi' Matisse and Kanna Bismarck, who repeatedly handed the overmatched Yoh and company their collective butts with alarming ease. At one point, Mari got bored and suggested killing Yoh outright. Macchi and Kanna thought that was a great idea. Wouldn't Hao-_sama_ be pleased to have his one true nemesis gone? Right! That was all the excuse they needed. Yoh wasn't just a sitting duck; he was a very dead duck.

And then Anna arrived.

The _itako_ won this first encounter hands down. The mere sight of her brand new _shikigamis_ 'persuaded' the _Hanagumi_ to call it a day and go home. Most reluctantly, though; Zenki and Kouki's presence withstanding, Mari still wanted to fight. It was a source of annoyance to think that some girl could get in the way of what she regarded as 'fun'. Further insult was added when she learned Anna's _shikigamis_ were originally Hao's.

_That petty thief! How dare she take away what was rightfully Hao-sama's!_

But the last straw was learning that their glorious leader was actually _interested_ in Anna as a potential bride once he had become the Shaman King. Getting in the way of interesting fights could be set aside. Snootiness, arrogance from anyone aside from Hao-_sama_ or that renegade Druid, even references to her painful past could be forgotten with the passing of time. But stealing the single most important star in Mari's constellation of personalized dreams was unforgivable.

_Hao-sama__ is all Mari's. All itako bitches, leave._

Mari really hated Anna.

And she owed Yoh something. He had saved her life, hadn't he? There was thus a double impetus for her to react: Revenge and appreciation.

So, in a scathing mixture of sarcasm and pretend naivety, Mari announced:

"Mari thinks your memory isn't working right, _obaa__-san._"

Anna's eyes flashed.

She recognized her adversary now. It was that _Hanagumi_ twit, the girl with the ugly puppet resembling a demented Manta and who kept referring to herself in the third person. _Of all the people Yoh could dally with,_ Anna wondered,_ why this retarded nut?_ Not that Yoh could even conceive the idea of dallying with girls; the most powerful Shaman in the world had the flirting capability of an oyster, though he did have laid-back charisma and very good looks. _But the Great Spirit must be making fun of me. The damn big glowing ball of light that couldn't do a thing when the Spirit of Fire ate it; how dare it do this to me, Kyouyama Anna!_

But what was really bad was that Anna didn't like being called _obaa__-san,_ a term of respect for an older woman, but used derogatively as the Japanese equivalent of 'Grandma' or '_Lola_': 'A _really_ old woman.

No, ma'am, Anna did not like it at all.

Her combination glare-growl would have frozen its target before following up with incineration– or vice versa. It did so to Yoh, and he wasn't even her target.

"What did you say?"

But that was a mistake. Not only did Mari match the offended _itako_'s expression force on force –Anna's death glare seemed to work only on boys–, she also decided to oblige her foe. "_Obaa__-san,"_ she repeated, slowly enunciating each and every syllable for extra effect. Then she added: "Old hag."

Then, in an impish gesture that was more like Macchi, Mari stuck her tongue out at Anna.

Anna glared at Mari.

Mari glared back at Anna.

Yoh swore he saw sparks fly.

Sparks? It was a honest-to-God lightning storm! Manta wondered if a stray bolt might hit the nearby cylinder of pure oxygen. They'd be instantly barbecued if that happened. Maybe it would be a Godsend, a quick death. He never really did like fried chicken that much.

_Please, don't let them start a fight; don't let them fight here with us in between…_

Anna took a menacing step towards Mari.

Mari made as if to hop down from her bed and counter any offensive Anna launched.

Manta mentally submitted his last will and testament to any attendant guardian angel, committed his soul to his Maker, and waited for his impending doom via catfight.

And then Yoh broke into a nervous chuckle-grin.

Both blonde girls swung to face him, focusing their glaring attention on him.

Five heartbeats later, Yoh wondered how he was still alive.

"Uh, girls," he sheepishly suggested, "Let's not get too worked up."

"What do you mean, _let's not?"_ Anna was like stone. "It's _your_ fault this happened!"

A drop of sweat formed on Yoh's forehead.

"_Obaa__-san _shouldn't turn her back on Mari," interjected the Hanagumi girl.

His sweat drop got bigger.

"Dry up," returned Anna.

"_Obaa__-san_ first."

Yoh coughed. The sound came out as a tiny sigh in the midst of a thundering gale, but it worked wonders. Both girls focused on him again.

_Well, here goes…_

"I was rather hoping," tried Yoh in his most diplomatic tone, "That Mari could stay at Funbari Onsen with us."

And that was when all Hell truly broke loose.

"NO!"

It was the first time in history and in everyone's memory that Anna actually exploded.

Figuratively: We don't know if nuclear explosions could even muss Anna's hairstyle, much less injure or kill her outright. We're not even sure if she's human.

"NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND, YOH?

"No, I'm not–"

"BUT YOU SURE ACT LIKE ONE! BY THE GREAT SPIRIT, SHE'S ONE OF HAO'S MINIONS, YOH! SHE TRIED TO KILL YOU BEFORE!"

"–I know that, Anna, but –"

"BUT OF COURSE YOU DO! AND YET, YOU'RE GOING TO LET HER LIVE WITH US DESPITE KNOWING IT?"

A nurse stuck her head to the door at that moment to drop a reprimand about the silence ordinance. Anna almost told the woman to stick her head somewhere very unpleasant, but she managed to master her anger in time. No sense getting kicked out of the hospital, leaving her imbecilic fiancé all alone and in thrall of the (evil) witch in (pretended) guise of a (abominably) cute and (falsely) helpless girl.

"I can't allow this." She was calmer now, but still angry. "I can't. I'm not allowing this girl to stay with us. I positively cannot–"

"Anna."

It was as if the world had chosen to end right then and there. In a way and for one person, it had. Anna stared at Yoh in dumbfound shock. His eyes were full of disappointment– disappointment at _her_ refusal, disappointment at _her_. The _itako_ couldn't find appropriate words to counter or comment. One message kept repeating itself inside her head, silent but damning, the greatest astonishment she had ever felt in her life.

_Yoh__ had stood up to her._

He had vetoed her decision, her orders– and as her fiancé, he had the power to do that. It was just that he had never done it before.

_He had never stood up to her before!_

It was that girl. Anna was sure of it. That conniving blonde weasel of Hao's had done something to _her_ Yoh –_Anna's_ Yoh– last night. A spell, or maybe hypnosis, or maybe a spirit like Boris Tepes', but whatever it was, Yoh was not in his right mind. He had to be. He didn't even have much of a mind to speak of! What had the thrice-accursed witch done to _her_ Yoh? Maybe she had seduced him, or even–

Anna banished that fear from her mind, though with great difficulty. No. She couldn't believe that happened, wouldn't bring herself to believe it. There was no way Yoh could betray her so brazenly or at all, period. The most powerful Shaman in the world was as cunning as a landslide, not to mention as clueless about girls as that African nut Tao Ren called a teammate was as allergic to cooties.

Gathering all her willpower and authority, Anna began to object with all her might: "Yoh–"

He cut her off. Not abruptly, not forcibly, but with that gaze of his so placid that it could pacify a buffalo stampede.

"Anna."

And then she just couldn't do it anymore. Anna just couldn't. She wouldn't.

She loved Yoh too much for that.

"Do whatever you want to, Yoh. But she's not my responsibility. She's yours. Don't blame me for anything bad that happens to us because of her."

Her eyes flashed in a moment of defiance, even as she looked away, the better to break eye contact and hide her own distress to herself.

"She can stay."

And so Kyouyama Anna did something she never thought she'd ever do in her life.

She surrendered.

**  
**Yoh was saddened by Anna's rebuff. But hand in hand with his sadness, and in far greater strength, was the simultaneous upspring of an incredibly realization. He had stood up to Anna for the first time. The real Anna; not some Shaman pretending to be her back in that hot springs in America, but the real thing, the one person he thought he could never face down. But Yoh had just done so.

And he had won.

He just had to. Yoh smiled.

At himself; at Manta; at Anna, even.

And at Mari, who stared at him for one long uncomprehending moment before she understood as well, and smiled back at him.

**  
**_"Tadaima,"_ Yoh told Mari with his customary grin. "Welcome home."

She nodded, turned to regard Funbari Onsen in the light of her being its newest resident, tried on a smile and felt it was nice to be home.

**  
**_Welcome home, Marion Phauna. Welcome home, indeed._

**  
A Word From The Author**

In the new manner atypical of the latest Sheo Darren _ManKin_productions:

**_GOMENNASAI! GOMEN GOMEN! _**I am **_SO_** sorry for being **_SO_** late! It took me more than a month to find enough spare time to concoct this latest chapter. College isn't merely killing me; it _has_ killed me. I miss high school, when I was able to update _ManKin_every two weeks or so. I don't know where I found the energy and inspiration to do so back then. High school is more hectic than college, and yet–

And yet, I miss you all. I miss Setsumi-_san_, Fluff-_chan_ Nagumo-_kun,_ s91, and all you others, even my crazy friend Person WMA. I miss you. I feel like I haven't seen you for a while– and that hurts, because I'm the type who forgets after a while.

And I don't want to forget.

Never.

For you, all my readers of past and present, faithful and all, I offer this latest creation of mine. It may be a while before the next comes out, but the next chapter shall come out.

This is, after all, a work of love.

Thank you.


	6. Tamao

Marion Phauna's stay at Funbari Onsen wasn't as bad as Manta had dreaded.

It was worse.

Anna and Mari were at war. It was all too evident in the way the two either ignored each other completely or locked glares in an eyeball version of TV pro wrestling, the way they had only sharp rebuke and insult for each other, the way they were like Marco and Rune at their worst– no; the two X-Laws' worst were most civilized in comparison. Their war dragged everyone else into the trenches and frontlines, turned those unfortunate souls into mindless minions, stalwart bulwarks, human shields and/or poor victims– all at the same time, and whether they liked it or not. At times, the residents of Funbari Onsen wished that Japanese tradition allowed for locks on the doors of private bedrooms. It would certainly allow them a temporary modicum of peace and privacy, before they had to cower once more under Anna's tyranny or shudder at how Mari see into their souls– or both, as was the usual thing nowadays.

Yoh was the only person who stood beyond it all. He was also only thing Anna and Mari agreed upon. Or rather, they both agreed that Yoh should belong to one and _only_ one of them. And he certainly didn't belong to the other.

The war spilled out. Unwilling victims like Ryu, Horohoro and especially Manta became mere pawns in the furious battles of manipulation that put to shame the Shaman Fight even in all the latter's gory glory. Anna used (and abused) her _itako_ powers to manipulate the ghosts. The stolid samurai warrior Amidamaru –he who swore fealty to Yoh and set himself above petty mortal squabbles– was her most famous victim. It was brutal and included using Mosuke as a hostage. Not willing to suffer such horrors, all the other spirits were frightened into following Anna's beck and whim.

The living residents were harder to control. Eventually, though, they were all forced to 'fight' under Anna's banner. Example: A very unwilling Manta was forced upon the primary role of being the _tako's_ 'cannon fodder' trooper. He was also her primary projectile, though he never hit her mark, not once. Only Pirika resisted. Being at odds herself with Anna, the Ainu girl immediately allied with Mari. And being her concerned _nii__-san_, Horohoro very reluctantly helped Pirika– and, in doing so, helped the Hanagumi girl.

(Horohoro also committed his soul into the safekeeping of the Lima Bean King. Such were the vagaries of war…)

Superior numbers of minions and being on home territory thus gave Anna immense tactical advantages. It was, however, offset by Yoh's sense of responsibility for Mari, as a proper host would for his revered guest.

Translation: Yoh was technically, but truly, on Mari's side.

Anna: "Damn."

Only two things were certain: It was going to be a very long stay at Funbari Onsen for Mari, and it was not going to be fun.

**  
The Romancers**

**Set Twp**

**  
Spiritless Poppet And Shaman King**

**  
Disclaimer:** Sheo Darren (meaning, me), owns only what I have created: My original characters and the story general. I don't profess to own Shaman King or any other familiar anime, movie, novel, song or others that is already owned by someone else.

**  
Chapter Five**

**Tamao**

**  
**If there was ever anyone close enough to being a nonpartisan observer in this war, it would be Tamao. Our dearest Pinkan Angel was in quite a bind. Being Anna's cousin, family bonds obligated her to dutifully assist her autocratic relative. But, sweetheart that she was, Tamao didn't want to cause trouble for anyone. Not for Anna, not for Mari, and least of all for Yoh, the object of the war who (secretly) rocked Tamao's (equally secret) private world. Especially for the last, or she wouldn't be Tamamura Tamao now, would she?

Of course she wouldn't.

Therefore, every step she took considered many contending factors, in the following order of importance: Yoh (first and most important, of course), Anna, Mari, everyone else and finally herself. 'Compromise' was a delicate word. Tamao couldn't make everyone happy.

Especially herself…

But Tamao did her best at it. She was very good at compromises. It came from taking care of the tempestuous Anna for much of her young life. One must learn to be the quintessential diplomat when living with the stern _itako_ If Tamao ever grew past her crush on Yoh, she would make an excellent Ambassador to the United Nations. Who knows, maybe she and Relena Darlian might bring about true world peace at long last?

But that is in the far-off future. This is the present.

And so Tamao decided upon a landmark decision, the consequences of which would ripple throughout history.

She decided to be nice to Mari.

**  
**One of the fiercest battles waged in the Anna-Mari War was about a broom– or rather, the chore of sweeping.

Dictionary definitions first: A 'battle' is defined as a place where two contending parties engage in combat. A 'skirmish' is a small battle that is relatively unimportant by itself in relation to the war it belongs to. A 'battlefield' is a location where a battle takes place.

It had been a week since Mari first arrived. That span of time had been marked by numerous occasions for squabbles, arguments, disagreements and the works. Everyone was on their toes for the first few days. They sort of got used to it eventually. 'Sort of', meaning 'not quite', not yet.

The battlefield for today was the open courtyard. The entire thing started out as a small skirmish. It degenerated into full-fledged battle and might have resulted in an all-out nuclear holocaust had not Tamao and Yoh intervened.

Mari was seated by herself, staring at nothing, accompanied only by her private musings. Somewhat like a certain Shaman King we know, come to think of it. It was a pleasant day to let your mind meander around a bit, warm enough as to make her a pleasant bit of drowsy. She was alone. Either everyone avoided her, or she stayed out of their way. That was fine. She preferred being alone. Less complicated that way.

The doll the young witch cradled in her arms –ragged, sewn by hand, and a source of hidden comfort for her as well as a source of irritation for Anna– looked suspiciously like Yoh. It ought to. She shaped it in his image. It was made from the same material as the youth's clothes. Mari'd stolen a shirt and a pair of his pants for her purposes. The stuffing came from Horohoro's favorite hug pillow (yet another victim of the war). It even had some of Yoh's hair on its head for authenticity. That last fact had scared Manta. After all, don't witches make voodoo dolls of the people they want to hex?

Luckily, Yoh had not reported any pains in his body or anything weird. At least, not yet– according to him, that is…

When Anna sighted her nemesis lounging around like all was right in the world, one could liken her to Captain Ahab howling "Thar she blows!" at the accursed White Whale. Or more like an invisible Predator hunting a poor miserable sap, just like in the recent _Aliens v.s. Predator_ movie. (Or maybe, in the words of Eah Osborne, like a cutely vengeful Fluff-_chan_ stalking her _onii-chan_ Sheo Darren for having failed to update for _months_. But we digress.) The parallelism sticks. Hunter and hunted, and Anna was the hunter today, the superior of the two combatants.

Superior, you say? Of course; Anna knew she was the superior.

How to attack? What should be her method and her weapon? The questions lingered. Anna looked around her. There was a broom propped up against a post. There were dead leaves and considerable dirt on the courtyard. One plus one equals:

_Magellan?_

Anna blinked. _Where on Earth did that _stupid_ thought come from?_

_From the __Philippines_came the smart-aleck answer out of nowhere. _Where else can utterly dumb rhymes like that come from?_

Anna grimaced, as if she bit her tongue or something. _My mind's starting to rot with that witch around. Well, to hell with that thought_, she told herself She had a plan, a weapon and pluck. She was also Kyouyama Anna, invincible mistress of Funbari Onsen. Who was this girl against her?

So reassuring herself,Anna took up her chosen tool and closed in.

Mari ignored the approaching footsteps. She knew it was her foe. There was no hiding possible. Anna's _furyoku_ and especially her anger radiated from her as if she was a runaway nuclear reactor. Odd, though, how the _itako_ took her time. _Maybe she was gathering her courage_. _Figures.__ She pretends to be so tough, and yet she's really a weakling._

_Just like yourself_, _wouldn't you say,_ accused the tiny voice within her mind.

Then the broom was thrust almost into her face.

"Hey, you."

Anna never referred to Mari by her name. It was always 'you' or 'girl'. To call someone by name was a privilege. It bestowed familiarity and camaraderie on that person. Anna did not want to give those to her foe. Over her dead body…

Normally, she would not have reacted or paid any attention. Anna could have had Zenki and Kouki breathe right down her face then, yet Mari would not have even twitched. It would have been different, of course, if Yoh or Hao had dropped by to proclaim undying love for her. That was a good enough reason to react (and a damned good reason, right? Right!) Short of those two, nothing –and by nothing, we mean the apocalypse, Leonardo di Caprio, an X-Laws attack, a million dollars tax free, and etc– should have provoked her.

But the broom–

A cheerfully energetic witch girl danced before Mari, then, twin vermilion locks bobbing up and down with every skip of her feet.

_"C'mon, Mari!__ Put some heart –and when I meant heart, I mean _yours_ figuratively, not the one you literally ripped out some stupid X-Laws' body– into it! Smile, girl! Show Hao-sama what you've got!"_

Soft lips fluttered, even as she unconsciously received the broom in her hands like a benediction.

"Macchi."

"Wrong person," Anna sneered. "Would you care to try again?"

Small hands tightened upon the implement's wooden handle. Mari looked up abruptly. Emerald eyes focused into a glare.

"What does _obaa__-san_ want?"

If Anna was the type to smirk, she would have done so now. As it was, she didn't need to. She also kept her temper under control at the insult offered and merely purred contentiously:

"If you want to stay here, you have to earn your keep."

Glaring green orbs narrowed in suspicion. "What do you mean?"

"You're also an extra mouth to feed. And you aren't doing anything useful while here."

"Mari is a guest here."

"Even that twerp Horohoro is a 'guest' here, and _he_ does his keep."

"And what does _he_ do?"

And now Anna really did smirk.

_"Karma, _what else?"

**  
**Aside, Horohoro shivered, even as he was cleaning the toilet bowl.

**  
**Tamao had been looking for Anna. She found her cousin in the worst possible situation: Within a five feet radius of Mari. And waving a broom at the latter's face while at it.

_This is not good…_

**  
**"So?"

"So take this broom," patiently persisted Anna.

"And?"

"Are you really so dense, not knowing a broom is meant to do?"

"I know that it is used for cleaning dirty places."

"Exactly. So go and sweep dirt." _Like yourself_, she left unsaid.

Mari looked at the broom, then at her enemy, and seemed to consider the order.

And then, she made as if to sweep _Anna's_ face.

The startled _itako_ actuallyrecoiled, but caught her self halfway through. It was too late, though. She'd lost ground on this encounter, not to mention face.

It was Mari's turn to smirk.

"What's wrong, _obaa__-san_? Didn't _obaa__-san_ herself say that dirt needs sweeping?"

And that was when Anna decided that things ought to end here and now, even as Mari decided likewise. _Furyoku_flared. Zenki and Kouki flanked their mistress, their presence absolutely intimidating. Mari held her 'Yoh Doll' as a weapon. The broom served as an impromptu shield. Trust me; those were formidable enough.

"I'm taking you down _now_, you cast-off from_ Charmed_!"

_"Obaa_-_san_ talks a lot, but that's all _obaa__-san_ can do."

"Oh, yeah? I ought to stuff that sweeper up your nose and into your third-person-view-oriented brain!"

"Mari will sweep, all right. Mari will sweep world clean of ugly old hags like _obaa__-san."_

"Oh, yeah? Well, this 'ugly old hag' is going to send you running back to your Hao-_sama_!"

Mari trembled slightly. That made Anna smile. She said:

"Well, now. Rather protective of your Hao now, are you?"

The sheer murder in the girl's eyes told Anna that she was right on the mark. _Lost face has just been regained_._ Milk it for all it's worth, Anna._

"You should know," the _itako_ continued with an air of superiority, "I can understand why you like him a lot. He's handsome, powerful, probably rich, maybe even–" and here Anna's voice dripped sarcasm-laden acknowledgement, "–_Sexy_ and all. But you know what? There's something about Hao you should know: He's already got an inspirational girl."

_That_ made Mari's heart freeze for about three seconds as she wondered just who that girl could be. But Anna was continuing her psychological warfare.

"Yes. You heard it right. Hao's got a girl. And it's _not_ you. You know who it is? Of course you want to know. But you _should_ know. You've met her already."

Anna actually laughed evilly before dropping her bombshell.

"It's none other than _Iron Maiden Jeanne_!"

**  
**At that very moment, in a different dimension–

"Jeanne-_chan__ Anong problema?_ What's wrong?"

"I don't really know how or why, Rione, but I think someone had just linked me with that vile _akuma_ Asakura Hao."

"Linked? _Linked?_ As in, **_romantic_** link?"

The appalled Iron Maiden shuddered in barely contained disgust. "Yes…"

"That is **_so_** wrong! Stupid Misha, and that's not to mention those loony Hao-Jeanne fans, too. Why can't they stick to canon pairings?"

**  
**And in yet another alternate dimension–

"…"

"Sheo-_nii-chan_?"

"For a second there, Enai-_chan_, I could have sworn that someone mentioned Kanon."

"Silly _Kuya_. Rione said 'canon', not 'Kanon'. Stop worrying about those evil beings who want to destroy all fan fiction writers. And stop destroying the fourth wall, will you? Your readers will get freaked out."

"Yeah, Enai, I suppose you are right."

"Of course I am. Now, go on with the story."

"Right…"

**  
**Mari wondered why she didn't shoot Anna there and then, what with this complete blasphemy uttered against her Hao-_sama_ by the implied link to that– that_ X-Laws girl_. Oh, right. Chuck was gone. She only had 'Yoh' as a weapon.

But 'Yoh' would do for now. Yes, indeed, it would do very well. Killing Anna with a doll based off her very own fiancé would be poetic justice. The world (not to mention Yoh) would be better off without the evil Empress.

Anna really wanted to destroy the girl before her. She really wanted to. And she could, you know. Zenki and Kouki aside, she could really rip this little blonde Hanagumi into a million pieces.

And then:

"Anna-_san?_"

It was all Tamao could do not to cringe at the _furyoku_-empowered double-glare delivered by two angrily contending girls. She was very scared. Anna and Mari both had the ability to hurt her pretty bad if they wanted to. Not that Anna would really do it and that Mari had any reason to do so. But the threat was present, nonetheless. It also made Tamao's decision to continue with her intervention very brave.

"I-I think it would be best if I do the sweeping, Anna-_san,_ since Mari-_san_ doesn't want to. If you don't mind, Anna-_san,_" she stammered hastily.

_But I _do_ mind,_ Anna was tempted to growl. Then again, it _was_ Tamao she was talking to. And they _were_ cousins, after all. Family respect and devotion mattered.

But why now? The fact bothered her. Tamao had always kept out of the war as best she could. Why now join the Dark Side (for Mari was more evil than Hao in the eyes of Anna)? What was the difference that made Tamao commit?

And then she saw the blush blossom on the pink-haired girl's cheeks, and knew what– or rather, _who_ the answer was.

"_Oi_ girls! What's the racket all about?"

Yoh was very curious and somewhat worried. Tamao looked like she had been caught in a machine-gun crossfire. He could understand why. By his experience, Anna summoned her _shikigami_ almost purely by whim and mainly to pound Chocolove for an especially bad joke. His fiancée did, however, also call them out in anger. And she looked rather angry right now, especially at the way he grinned at her per his policy.

And was that a miniature doll of himself that Mari was carrying? Not a demented Manta, but a ragged Yoh?

_Is that a good thing or a bad thing?_

Anna snorted. Whether from disdain or annoyance, only she –and maybe Yoh– knew. Zenki and Kouki returned to their holding place with only a commanding thought. She turned her back on all of them.

"It's nothing. We were just talking."

Yoh knew better than to press the issue. "Well, okay. But please, try to be nice to Mari. She's our guest."

_As you've reminded me a million times over the week already,_ thought Anna. _The witch's won, already! Stop repeating it over and over again!_

But she didn't reply. She'd lost. This round had gone to Mari by way of Tamao and Yoh's intervention. Anna's sense of honor dictated that the victor deserved the spoils. That, and her secretly growing disappointment, made her stomp back to her room for some private tantrums to herself.

Since her back was turned to them, Anna didn't see Yoh watch her go with a one-sided affection she didn't think him capable of.

Sighing in relief at the barely-averted disaster, Tamao then realized she was being observed by Mari. It was as if the blonde girl was measuring her with some invisible scale. It kind of embarrassed Tamao, and so she was thankful that Mari then decided to fixed her eyes on Yoh instead.

"So, Mari-_san_, is everything all right?"

"Yes, Yoh-_sama__."_

"Ah, please don't call me that." Yoh chuckled. "Just call me Yoh."

"Yes… Yoh…"

And then understanding dawned on Tamao, for in that moment she saw deeply into the lost heart of a very lonely girl who was standing before a boy.

_Just like myself…_

**  
**Later that night…

Mari was relaxing herself inside Funbari's hot spring. As she let the hot water soak into her bones, she heard the wooden sliding doors open.

_If it's that itako again– _Her free hand clutched 'Yoh' tightly as the footsteps closed in.

But it wasn't Anna. It was only a towel-clad (and rightly nervous) Tamao.

"Oh, Mari-_san!_ I didn't know you were here." She gave the blonde girl a weak smile and a weaker wave. "Can I join you?"

Mari held a small debate to herself. On one hand, she disliked having to share the _furo_, even with another girl. Having been reared in a conservative Western family, she believed a bath should be a private affair to oneself. There were exceptions, of course. If it was (again) Yoh or Hao asking– well, we know the answer to that particular fantasy.

Then again, Mari _was_ in _Japan_. And if one is in Rome, do what the Romans do.

And besides, Tamao had helped her earlier. Not that Mari had needed any help in dealing with Anna. But the young witch had learned that gratitude pays off huge dividends. Look at Yoh, for example. She wouldn't be here if it weren't for him. She wouldn't even be alive. He'd saved her life, and so in return she stood up for him when his girlfriend –the word rankled Mari the way a persistent back itch would– was going to kill him. And so here she was, in her new home for the foreseeable future. Things turned out pretty well, didn't they?

So, Mari slowly nodded assent.

The grateful Tamao gingerly stepped into the pool, positioning not far from Mari. The latter went back to her private thoughts. For want of a better sight, she fixed her eyes on the night sky, where the stars twinkled upon the very girl that their smaller, closer cousin had touched not a week ago.

A hand reached up to her cheek, caressing the place where that unforgettable ray of sunshine had touched her, a golden memory with which to drive away the darkness that hunted and haunted her.

And yet it still lurked there, outside, waiting.

But Mari was ready for it now.

"Um, excuse me."

Her reverie broken, she brought her gaze and attention to bear on her companion.

If Tamao's speech pattern and tone were given a fitting metaphor, it would be a shy girl taking great care not to hurt the grass by stepping on them too hard. In fact, that metaphor was fitting for Tamao herself. She was halting in speech for the reason that she didn't want to cause trouble for anyone with a wrong word. She was reluctant to volunteer her thoughts because it would dispossess someone else's.

But now, armed with the hard-won knowledge of the girl before her, Tamao very bravely began:

"Yoh-_sama_ is a nice person, isn't he?"

_That_ was an argument Mari –or Anna, or anyone else– would never counter. Even Hao would vouch for that. "Yes. Yes, he is."

"Uh-huh." Tamao was rambling away now, afraid of stopping lest she never regain her momentum. "He's always kind to me and his friends and even to his opponents–"

_Like me,_ thought Mari, remembering her last fight with Yoh. When the X-Laws or most anyone else would have killed her, he had shown her a different life path to take.

"–So, it's no wonder that he has so many friends, and why so many people like him, like Anna-_sama_ and the X-Laws and–"

"–And you?"

The blonde's question stopped the gaping Tamao in her tracks. "Eh? Uh, what was that, Mari-_san_?"

"Don't pretend to be what you aren't." Haunting emerald eyes zeroed in on their pink opposites, locked on and didn't stray or wink. "You like Yoh, don't you?"

Tamao turned cherry pink and kept quiet.

Mari didn't let up. "Well?" she pressed.

The girl blushed even more.

"Um, ah, well–"

"Well what?"

Tamao was now blazing red. "Well, I guess I–"

"Don't use the word _guess_." For some reason, Macchi's advice of earlier came to mind. It fitted this situation, didn't it? And Mari felt herself being egged on by something she couldn't quite define or understand, but what was actually empathy in a sense. "Put your heart into it, Tamao– and when Mari says that, Mari means your real heart, not some accessory you wear and discard when you feel like it."

Maybe it was the pressure on her. Maybe it was the realization that she wasn't going to lose anything with her confession. Maybe it was Mari calling her by name, a rendered honor of immeasurable worth: The recognition of her existence and her worth. So Tamao went for it.

"You're right," she admitted. "I do like Yoh-_sama_"

And that did it. There was a peaceful strength that swept into Tamao then and there, changing her. She liked Yoh. She had just confessed that fact to a stranger. But, more importantly, she had told it to herself. She had accepted it for what it was. Acknowledging something you keep denying gave it reality. Revealing that thing to another person established a bond between you. And thus are people strengthened, and friendships begin to bloom.

For a long moment, Mari scrutinized the now transformed Tamao. The blush was gone, replaced by– faith. Faith in herself, that and humble strength. Approving the result, the _Hanagumi_ girl closed her eyes sagely and nodded in agreement.

"Good. That's good for you."

This time, Mari meant it.

And then it was Tamao's turn to ask:

"What about you, Mari-_san_?"

One eyelid lazily slid open, revealing an inquiring orb. "Hmm?"

"What about you? I mean," Tamao hesitated, then asked: "Do you like Yoh-_sama_ as well?"

Like a rumor, the question reverberated within her mind. Again and again and again, a broken old record on a phonograph that just won't conk out, those words echoed.

_"Do you like Yoh-sama_ _as well?"_

_Does Mari like Asakura Yoh?_

The eye that regarded Tamao went soft all of a sudden, its brow arching downwards in personal reminisce, in the same emotion she had glimpsed earlier. Then it closed, as if a door was being shut against the world. The breath seemed to leave Mari's body in the deep sigh that follow. She shuddered, as if feeling cold– or as if all life and soul had left her.

She stood up to go. Tamao was apologizing hurriedly, but her ears were deaf. Almost mechanically, she toweled herself dry and put on her bathrobe. Not a single word was spoken. Not an ounce of energy was expended unnecessarily. Once garbed, she picked up her Yoh Doll, went over to the door and drew it open.

"Mari-_san_!"

She stopped. On the threshold of the house proper, she stopped to look at the girl she had befriended.

Tamao was standing up, her towel clutched to her front. _She was sad,_ Mari decided, _because she blamed herself for having driven Mari off, right?_

_But who is there to blame but Mari? It is Mari herself who keeps people at arm's length. Mari is the one who pushes them all away._

"If you deny yourself happiness," Tamao blurted out, "You'll end up a very lonely person. And that isn't good, especially for you."

The blonde girl shook her head. "Mari is always alone," she murmured back. "Whatever happens, whoever come and goes, Mari is always alone."

_Mari is the one who makes Mari lonely._

She stepped outside. Behind her closed the door– and Tamao was left alone with that painful lie to live with.

**  
Tsuzuku**

**  
**.

**  
A Word From Sheo**

And thus, this latest chapter of _Poppet_ is finished, just in time for Christmas.

I must admit that I am currently having a hard time writing _ManKin_. Among the many reasons are as follows: College, advanced age, another fan fiction that somehow sucks up almost all of my time and energy, for consuming much of my prepaid Internet account, _Megatokyo_

I will not plead excuses. I know I deserve whatever it is that you throw at me. I'll just work harder at this. And this time, I mean it.

(Hey… wait… Ow! Argh! Ouch! Jeanne-_chan_? Why did you have Shamash beat me up? What? You hate me for not getting to your reappearance quickly enough? Waah! Don't leave me… I am very sad now. I need cheering up L…)

_Late dedications:_ For Fluff Inc (whom I mistook as and kept calling Jess-_chan_ silly me), Setsumi-_san_ (how are you doing, JSF?) and Nagumo (waiting for your next update), my three most regular female reviewers. They and all the others who review my story needle my conscience whenever I sleep, reminding me to drive myself onwards. Thanks for being my inspirations.

A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

**  
Next Chapter: **Anna finally does what most people thought she'd never do– and in doing so, destroys Mari's will to live. **_Chapter Six: Anna._**


	7. Anna

**_So long ago:_**

**  
**_"Anna-hime, dear, come here. We have something to tell you."_

_"What is it, oka-chan, otou-san?"_

_"We have wonderful news. You are going to have a baby sister!"_

_"Reh?__ Really?"_

_"Yes."_

_"That's… that's… that's wonderful!"_

_"Yes, it is. Anna, you will be a big sister soon. Onee-chan Anna. We want you to love your baby sister when she comes out, okay?"_

_"Yes! Yes, I will!"_

**  
_If only I knew…_**

**  
**_"Oka-chan's tummy is getting soooo big."_

_"Yes, it is. That's because of your baby sister. She is staying in my tummy."_

_"Really?__ So baby sister is in your tummy?"_

_"Yes."_

_"And does she look like oka-chan?"_

_"Maybe."_

_"How about me?__ Do I look like oka-chan?"_

_"Of course."_

_"So, my baby sister will look like me, too?"_

_"Yes, and that is why we want you to love her because she is a lot like you, too. Promise me, Anna. Promise me you'll be a good big sister. Promise me you will love your baby sister."_

_"I will! I promise to be the best onee-chan ever! And I will love my baby sister a lot!"_

**  
_…If only, then maybe I could have spared myself so much pain…_**

**  
**_"Okaa-san, when will my baby sister come?"_

_"A little more, Anna, and then you will finally meet her."_

_"But I want to see her now! I want to be the best onee-chan ever!"_

_"Be a good girl, Anna. Be a good girl and wait a little while longer."_

_"Okay…"_

**  
_…pain from promises that would never be kept by everyone…_**

**_  
_**_"Where is she, oka-san? Where is my baby sister?"_

_"I'm so sorry, Anna-hime. Your baby sister never woke up. The doctors tried to wake her up, but she never did."_

_"She– she never woke up? She– she's dead?"_

_"Anna–"_

_"She's dead? My baby sister is dead?"_

_"Anna-hime–"_

_"No! She is not dead! She is not dead!"_

_"Please, Anna! Anna!"_

_"I want my baby sister! I want to see her! I want to see my baby sister! I promised to be the best onee-chan for her! I promised! I promised!"_

**  
_… including me._**

**_Once, long ago, I made a promise. I promised to be the best big sister for my little sister. I never got to keep that promise. I never will._**

**_And so, on that very same day, I made a new promise to myself._**

**_Never again._****_ Never again._**

**_Never again will Kyouyama Anna cry._**

**  
.**

**  
The Romancers**

**Set Two**

**  
Spiritless Poppet And Shaman King**

**  
Chapter Six**

**Anna**

**  
Disclaimer:** Sheo Darren (meaning, me), owns only what I have created: My original characters and the story general. I don't profess to own Shaman King or any other familiar anime, movie, novel, song or others that is already owned by someone else.

**  
**Anna found Yoh at his favorite lazing spot in Funbari Onsen. He was not exactly in his best moment, but he sure was content. The most powerful Shaman in the world was happily enjoying the evening's blue cool by himself. The only immediate clue that he was alive and not a lifelike statue plopped there by accident was that his head occasionally bobbed back and forth most gently. Typical Yoh. He never changed.

She had had enough. Enough of that conniving fox who pretended to be a witch; enough of cousins who didn't have their heads screwed on correctly; especially enough of stupid Ainu who knew not when to get out and stay out of the Kingdom of Death and Destruction that was her domain; and enough of the dark-haired youth happily bathing in the cool air of the starry night.

It was time to finish it all.

With all of her stern backbone and domineering tone of authority, Anna commanded:

"Yoh. We need to talk."

The week had been a surprise in itself. It was also full of surprises (both good and bad, mostly the latter) for everyone, especially Anna. This was no exception.

Yoh didn't wince, cringe, talk back, move or otherwise react in any way that would acknowledge that she existed.

It hit her. It felt like running smack into a brick wall. While in a Corvette. At a hundred miles per hour. And after forgetting to put on a seatbelt. It didn't hurt, somehow, not at all. The pain wasn't automatically registering in her brain. She couldn't identify it. But it was there.

Her first instinctive reaction was to glare. Hand in hand with this gesture of annoyance was a frown. (People who didn't know her assumed that her face was set in a perpetual frown, but that wasn't true. Anna did have a frown that was distinctly separate from and far more lethal than her usual disgruntled expression.) Along with it was a slight but _very_ dangerous adjustment in the tone of her voice. It was the first –and last– warning she gave those who crossed her.

She growled:

_"Yoh."_

Again, the same brick wall. Again, the same Corvette, but double the speed. But it happens that our particular driver is very obstinate on where she wants to go: Heaven, Purgatory, Hell, Dante's version of the first three or whatever afterlife waited nervously for her coming invasion of conquest.

Two strikes were not an out. Anna was still at bat. Tough girl that she was, she was still game for more punishment.

_People say that we always hurt the ones we love._

_Well, _she grimly muttered to herself, _I'm about to prove that old saying big time._

**_"Yoh."_****__**

Again insert the parallelism of earlier, itself a variation of the age-old schoolboy question on 'immovable object meets irresistible force'. After all, what man can resist a Chevy? Before we begin with our repetition, though, please find a person with a mass of about 500 pounds. Place said sumo wrestler in the back seat directly _behind the driver_. Now, have the said car smash into wall.

Inertia hurts.

(So does Physics class, though only in the head.)

If Anna was a driver, she would be the worst one to ever terrorize the paths of life. As it was, she was content with being the local stunt driver's nightmare.

_Content?_

It fitted Yoh like an old shirt. A nuke might have gone off right beside him, yet not a bang (pun not intended) on his hair would have stirred. Neither would the blast pressure wave, intense heat or massive irradiation even make him notice. He was so taken with whatever occupied his thoughts that the satisfied aura around him didn't need to work itself at all. It would only need to exist, and then all others of this world could let their tempers simmer and their heels start tapping. Yoh was beyond them and the world.

Even beyond Anna.

_Why is he ignoring me? What is wrong with him? Damn it! He can't do this to me! I'm Kyouyama Anna! I'm his fiancée! I'm the girl he loves the most in this world._

An illusory Mari, her ghostlike frame draped lovingly upon the inert youth like a living, loving cloak, smiled triumphantly at her.

_("Is obaa-san sure of that?")_

And another part of Anna –another, smaller, mournful side– plaintively whimpered:

_Please. Don't ignore me. Please._

_I don't want to be ignored._

And then she noticed the I-Pod upon Yoh's chest.

Of course. It made sense now. His inattentiveness towards her, his far-away demeanor and distraction: It all added up– and not with some stupid guy named Magellan as the sum. _Stupid Filipinos, and stupid me for not noticing at once._ Yoh had his headphones on, was listening to the I-Pod that Lyserg had given him. Maybe it was even at full volume, though the young Shaman's taste in music was more to the sweet and sappy J-Pop and not the violent blood-and-guts metal or rock. Of course he couldn't hear her.

_Silly me._

_Now I have a good reason to kill him._

As if her imagined pledge of death was a cue, Yoh opened his eyes, looked up at his angry fiancée and said:

"Oh. Anna. It's you."

Just those four words were devastating._ Oh. Anna. It's you._ Few people could be as casually callous as Yoh revealed himself to be in that moment. Or at least that was what Anna told herself. The world ran in one way; she saw it in another way. This skewed perception of reality might have been the reason why she acted so mean. A crazy person cannot understand normal people. Then again, everyone was crazy in one way or another. Maybe the normality to this world was craziness, and all the normal people were actually the crazy ones. Or maybe the people who deny they are crazy are actually the craziest ones around.

But back to Anna, who almost did a double-take but caught herself and partially growled:

"Excuse me?"

"Yes, Anna?"

A tic formed above her left eyebrow.

"What did you say?"

"What I said."

"That was not what I meant."

"What do you mean?"

"Yoh…"

At least he cringed a little. This was better. People should know their place.

"Yes, Anna?"

"You're trying my patience."

"Am I?"

"Yes."

Yoh grinned sheepishly. "Sorry," he apologized.

"'Sorry'?" She was starting to get worked up. "'Sorry' is all I get? No, Yoh. 'Sorry' is not what I want."

"Then what do you want?"

Her voice went up one octave. "You know what I want."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do, dammit!"

The snarl caught both of them off guard. Yoh seemed a bit shaken by Anna's vehemence. The _itako_ herself could not believe she actually lost her cool. She usually remained in control of herself even when she was pissed off. (Doubters may ask Horohoro for eyewitness accounts; do prepare to be traumatized, though.) But she felt that real uncontrolled anger was in order after all she had allowed herself gone though. _This ought to warn Yoh that I'm serious._

"If it's about Mari–" But she cut him off.

"It _is_ all about her. I don't want her here anymore."

"Had she done something wrong?"

Anna was all about to yell "Yes!" but found that she could not lie outright. She had always been truthful about what she thought and felt. Blunt like a club and brutally direct as she was in her ways, it was still a mark of her person that she did not tell lies. If she believed something, she would tell you about it. It didn't matter that she all but stuffed it down your guts, being a pushy dictator that she was. Neither did it matter that everyone thought otherwise (and thought so with good reason). They could go and break their teeth on it or hate her forever, for all she cared. In fact, she could care more than she usually did– and Anna _did not _care. As long as they knew that was her position, well and good. That was Kyouyama Anna talking, and you'd better believe it.

And no matter what you thought about her, this dictum of straightforward honesty was always an impressive thing.

Anna couldn't lie.

Anna always told the truth.

And Yoh knew it.

He grinned innocently at her, hoping to defuse what he could of the explosive ticking powder keg that was his fiancée before she blew up and did him bodily harm.

"Anna."

**  
**_Anna._

_"I was rather hoping that Mari could stay at Funbari Onsen with us."_

_"NO!"_

_"NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND, YOH?_

_"No, I'm not–"_

_"BUT YOU SURE ACT LIKE ONE! BY THE GREAT SPIRIT, SHE'S ONE OF HAO'S MINIONS, YOH! SHE TRIED TO KILL YOU BEFORE!"_

_"–I know that, Anna, but –"_

_"BUT OF COURSE YOU DO! AND YET, YOU'RE GOING TO LET HER LIVE WITH US DESPITE KNOWING IT?"_

_"Anna."_

**  
**"Anna." Her name had signaled the world abruptly turning upside down for her. It marked the moment when Yoh had truly stood up to her and rebuffed her, threw away the yoke of tyranny she had laid upon his back and became a free man. When Yoh had spoken it in that way he did so a week ago, her name took on a new meaning. No longer was Kyouyama Anna the name of the invincible _itako_ of Funbari Onsen, the Shaman Queen.

Her name was all that remained to her. It was the core of her person. It was her. It was the only name she really had. Kyouyama Anna was Kyouyama Anna. Right?

But they had destroyed her name. Yoh and Mari had. Now it was synonymous with Waterloo and Watergate. Kyouyama Anna had become the word associated with a crushing defeat.

It was her second disappointment in life.

**  
**_"I want my baby sister! I want to see her! I want to see my baby sister! I promised to be the best onee-chan for her! I promised! I promised!"_

**  
**She had lost her baby sister even before the latter was born, was deprived of the joys of sharing her love with another person so early in her young life. Her first disappointment had led her to harden herself against sadness. She had sworn never to cry again. And so she had done so, up until this very point.

But she was human, all too human.

_But promises were made to be broken And so they were indeed broken into a hundred thousand million pieces, shattered shards scattered to the four winds of change, a sparkling in the sky like the stars– and then nothingness, oblivion._

But the tiny voice inside of her pleaded to the 'her' who was broken. It was the voice of her little sister and the voice of her old, young self. It was the voice of desperation and of wanting.

It was the voice of one who wanted love.

_Please. Don't ignore me. Please._

_I don't want to be ignored._

_I don't want to cry again._

**  
**Anna kissed Yoh.

In Japanese culture, a hug was more powerful than a kiss. In tradition, it was the boy who was supposed to make the advances and the girl was to receive them.

But Anna felt the need for more than just her arms around him. And she couldn't wait. She needed her lips pressed upon his, their bodies pressed together in an intimate crush of cloth and flesh, inhaling the scent of him as she rested her face upon his strong chest. Yoh would not take the initiative anytime soon. Anna needed to guide him for the rest of his life. It was a role she was content to play. She was his, after all. He was hers and she was his.

She loved him. Anna truly loved Yoh. When she thought that Tokagero had killed him, she had fallen upon her knees and nearly wept. When she saw Hao kill him, Anna would have preferred to have died at that very moment so as to chase after Yoh's and be with him to the very last. That she didn't wasn't a proof of her thinking mind, but of her love winning over a barrier such as death. She chose to live, and because Anna lived, Yoh lived. In her living, _they_ lived.

But their ending was still long in coming. And now their happy lives were being unraveled by the pale witch who had almost destroyed them once already– almost destroyed then, and in succeeding at her attempt to killYoh, Mari may have utterly destroyed Anna.

Maybe it was too late already. Maybe this gesture was useless. Maybe she was twenty-five minutes too late.

But Anna was perfectly happy to have this last moment to their selves before the final adieu.

She kissed Yoh. Passionately, strongly, she kissed him, breathed into his mouth and let him breathe into hers. As he was taller than her, she had to rise up and stand on her tiptoes to maintain lip lock. Her little balancing act kept them in very close bodily contact. Loosened, the red bandanna fell to the ground and was forgotten. It was an intimacy that she did not want to lose for ever.

And the wonder of it all was that Yoh –despite his body's involuntary stiffening against her abrupt advances– Yoh softened, put his arms around her and richly reciprocated in kind by kissing her back.

And Anna knew then that Yoh still loved her as always.

And she told him so, then, when they broke apart to breathe in the air of this world, happy though they were to have only each other to themselves.

"I love you, Asakura Yoh."

"You, too, Anna. I love you, too."

**  
**Unknown to them, someone was there.

**  
**Mari didn't know what she felt. She had just left the _furo_ without answering Tamao's question. She didn't want to think about it, wasn't ready to make such a strong commitment of her feelings based on vague suppositions and a week of apparent heaven. She definitely was reluctant about certain things– like admitting that she did have feelings for Yoh.

Maybe that was why her heart nearly stopped upon seeing Anna and Yoh in that most _un_reluctant of kisses.

After all, the clue to her ponderings was clutched in her right hand all along.

Or was it?

_"Do you like Yoh-sama_ _as well?"_ Tamao had asked.

But Mari had no answer for that question. She couldn't think of one. Her mind was blank. Nothing in her past had taught her what to do.

The person whom she relied upon so much these past few days was right before her, and yet she couldn't ask the answer out from him.

The only other person she could turn to was long gone, never to return.

And Chuck was dead.

And so she did the only thing she could do, the thing she had been doing all along.

Mari ran away.

**  
**_I've fallen into a light sleep, a sleep that encompasses my whole being. I never carried out any of my promises. I discarded the brightness of my person so long ago; like the light borne by the dawning sun, it can never come back to me again._

_How far back should I go? Tell me. Tell me! Everything is so painfully vivid. I know the answer lies beside this cold frozen heart of mine, frozen, mindlessly driven to persist for all eternity. Numb, mute, blind and suffering, I gathered the sorry remainder of the wreck that was once my emotions. And searching for redemption, I–_

_But I've fallen into a light sleep. On lonely nights I'm beginning to learn the designs of sorrow. The hiding away of your warm presence makes me fear the overflowing darkness._

_I cannot find you._

**  
**It was there. It had always waited for her. It had followed her for a long while now. It had hunted her all this time, had fed upon that hapless ghost that tried to stand in the way of the hunter. It was hungry and impatient and very dangerous.

But it was not mindless. Nor was it invincible. It could sense formidable foes within the sanctuary its prey had chosen, Shamans powerful enough to wound or even kill it. That gave it pause. It valued its own life. It could not allow itself to die senselessly, so it had instructed by the one who called it forth into this world. Thus, it did not immediately attack.

Instead, it waited. It waited for its target or her guardians to grow careless, waited for the proper time to strike.

It could afford to wait. It had all the time in the world.

After all, it was a ghost.

And now that moment came.

She approached it. Its fearsome head lifted at the sight and scent of her. The whine it uttered would have chilled almost anyone.

There was no fear in her. No brave thoughts dwelt within her, either. All that she had against this thing was the hopeless confusion of her emotions. Her sadness was all that held her together.

She held her hands out to the thing and pleaded, choking on tears all the while:

"Take Mari. Please. Take away all of Mari's pain and suffering."

Fluidly the thing shambled forward, towards her. As it enveloped her, she murmured what would be her last words:

"Take me."

**  
**Alone, the ragged doll of Yoh lay upon the dirty floor, forgotten.

**  
Tsuzuku**

**  
Sheo's Notes:**

As I will be taking summer classes for the majority of April or May (either that, or I will probably die most horribly), I will find updating this fan fiction difficult. But it does not mean that this is the end of _Poppet_. It does not end here. Not by a long shot.

All the others are still waiting. Mari and her newly-healed, newly-hurting heart; Rione and the mysterious former Romancer called Kite; the supposedly dead Meene; Jeanne-_sama_ and Lyserg, Marco and Rune, and the new X-Laws; people whose names I cannot reveal, not yet; and even our favorite _akuma_. They are all waiting for me to write their stories down.

It will take far more time than I had anticipated. _Maiden/Dowser_ was a quicky, easy write. _Poppet_ is hard work, and I'll have far more of that coming soon that I really want to.

Still: Everyone else waits. You wait. And I, too, I suppose, must wait.

**  
Next Chapter: **His name is Kite. **_Chapter Seven: Kite._**


	8. Kite

_Once upon a time ago, there was a young man who was the perfect Romancer. He embodied every important virtue of a Romancer: kindness, understanding, truthfulness, idealism and (of course) romanticism. His acting skills were superb. His sense of drama was without equal. He never failed his missions. He always ensured that a love story ended happily._

_But one day, he met a girl who was beyond his power. He tried his best and pressed his power to the limits. But he could never make her happy in the manner he knew and wanted. He could never make her fall in love._

_She was his one and only failure._

_He never was the same since then. He did his best, but he never exceeded his old self. No one noticed but himself. But he was the harshest judge of himself. And he could never forgive himself for his one failure._

_So, one day, he called all of his friends and fellow Romancers. Among them was one special Filipina who was his biggest fan. He had important tidings for them concerning what he had learned and what he was planning to do. He knew that it would forever change them all, would change the very essence of the Romancers. And he hoped it would be for the better._

_"I have been a Romancer for a long time. I know of little else but being one. As a Romancer, I have undergone many experiences and learned many things. Among others, I have learned that the quintessence of romance is that no two love stories are the same. Most of them are happy. Some are sad. All of them are unforgettable._

_"I am happy to have served alongside all of you. You are all wonderful people. All Romancers are wonderful people. So am I, I think. And I love you all– especially a certain Filipina who is very dear to me._

_"So, I hope that you will understand me when I say what I have to say. I know that it might take some time to understand. I know that some of you might never understand. But I hope for the best. And I pray for all of you that, one day, you will understand why I did this._

_"And so, without further ado:_

**_"I quit."_**

**  
The Romancers**

**Set Two**

**  
Spiritless Poppet And Shaman King**

**  
Disclaimer:** Sheo Darren (meaning, me), owns only what I have created: My original characters and the story general. I don't profess to own Shaman King or any other familiar anime, movie, novel, song or others that is already owned by someone else.

**  
Chapter Seven**

**Kite**

**  
**---This chapter is dedicated to the trio of Fluff, Inc. To **Jess-_chan_**, my cute and prolific virtual li'l sister; **Eina****-_san_**, who puts up with my repeatedly mistaking her for Jess; and **Patty-_san_, **who, I am sure, is every bit as lovable as her two more famous companions.---

**  
**Rione Asuka Hunter was apprehensive.

Her mouth was dry, her breathing harried. Her heart beat madly, louder and stronger than a full percussion set. She could not bring herself to move or answer. The specter before her rendered her helpless without even trying. His presence was enough to take control of their situation. The mere sight of him was intoxicating.

He looked almost exactly the same way she had last seen him. There were changes, of course. Most everything changed. He looked older, careworn, frayed at the edges. It showed. Solitary streaks of white stood out from his blue-grey hair, striking symbolic scars testifying to battles fought and suffering endured. Behind those bright blue eyes lurked hints of burdens too great to share, experiences too dark to be disclose to anyone. And he wore grey now, despite the fact that his clothes were exactly like hers minus the long trench coat.

Or rather, her clothes were exactly like his. After all, Rione had copied it wholesale from him. Not just the wardrobe, but mannerism, speech, style and beliefs. She had completely remade herself into his image, all too happily discarding her own identity for a mirror of him. His persona was now hers. She was now him.

But while her old identity had died in order to make way for her new one, the man she modeled herself upon remained the same.

Despite everything, he was still the man she had loved– and still loved.

"Hello, Jess."

His voice was low-key and laid-back. His smile was small and openly friendly. What made it worse for her was that he meant it. The affection he obviously regarded her with was not affected for show. It was the truth, what he really felt for her. He cared for her. He loved her like the world over– and more.

And she had to play the unfeeling foil to his friendly advances. Not for the first time, she stood as a pretend villain to his goodness.

For the first time ever as a Romancer, Rione was the hypocrite.

And with romantic love, to think of it. And she was a Romancer at that.

_Oh, Irony, so we meet again…_

She swallowed. Fear, anxiety, panic, confidence and bile all went down her throat. It was a small miracle that she did not stammer. Her hammering heart, her quietly rapid breathing, her building terror; she should have broken down at the least. But she kept her sanity and senses. Reluctantly, knowing herself to be lost from the very beginning, she allowed a tentative greeting to depart her lips and meet him.

"Hello, Kite."

The young man broke into a sad smile. It was all she could do to stay put. The flimsy dam of her own resolve could barely hold back the thunderous torrent of her emotions. And it hurt her even more to act against her own natural and personal inclinations. To keep herself from hurting one way, she hurt herself in another way. Either way, she lost.

And he knew. It was why he quietly greeted her the way he did.

"Hello, Jess."

**  
**"_Ohayou_, Lyserg-_kun_, Marco-_san,_ Rune-_san._Hey, Millie. It's been a while."

Meene regarded the astonished assembly of personages with one-sided and good-natured amusement. "My, my," she noted aloud, shaking her head slightly. "You all look like you've seen a ghost."

She was right. It was less evident with those who didn't personally know her. Sure, Eah Osborn –still Chibi-fied and borne in navigator partner (and reputed romantic interest) Lavi Hevv's arms– kept her constantly in the sights of his miniaturized but still-menacing machine gun. And Maestro's tinted visor did obscure his face, effectively hiding whatever telltale signs as to his opinion. Not to mention the wary way Suppi, Keroberos, Nakuru, Yukito, Syaoran and even Myzuki all waited for the slightest excuse to gangbang her at the least provocation.

But Drake Malloy and Vincent Granger were more puzzled than surprised. Lavi and Sakura even more so. _Who was this person? What the hell was she doing here? And what's with the question marks on everyone's heads? _Perhaps that was what Maestro also thought. Surely it was what almost everyone was thinking.

And then there were Tomoyo and Eriol. Apparently unshakable, they wore benign faces and friendly smiles. They stood in the center of near-panic but were untouched by the folly of this world. Though not oblivious to the disturbing presence of someone supposedly dead, they were unaffected by the spell of disbelief that had seized certain of their companions.

Marco Innocenzo Testarossa was the most impressive and pathetic of the lot. He was white as a sheet and still as a statue. His hugely open mouth could have served as a subway tunnel. A certain fox girl person could have walked up to him, lifted his wallet, fed him disgusting Tekiyaki Udon and poisonous Refresh Mineral Water, smacked him with a rotten bluefin tuna and complacently walk away without any fear for her life, ever. He would not have noticed or felt any punishment. Only after his adopted daughter complains about the unsavory aroma emanating from the ugly bruise on his face would he probably react. Still, he might remain dazed for a while. Probably long and badly enough that he'd fail to notice the scandalized (and murderous) former druidess whose private bubble bath he had intruded upon in his blind quest for cleansing.

Jeanne Verrier D'Arc and Lyserg Diethyl clung to each other, the Iron Maiden supported and protected by her dowser knight. Despite leading lives as storied and star-crossed as Tomoyo and Eriol, they were younger than the former couple. They were less assured and experienced, more prone to worry and doubt. And so they automatically sought reassurance in the most concrete and immediate form they knew: Each other. Their love was the mighty foundation of their fatefully intertwined existences. It sustained them through their darkest hours and elevated them to glory in their brightest days. It served them now– would do so in times to come.

And Millie–

_"Onee-san_?"

Her needle-like query broke the bubble of perplexed silence ensconcing the garden. The unofficial songstress of the X-Laws dared where lions and knights and angels feared to tread. Her face was questing for answers, as were her eyes. Her heart silently sang out to the blonde woman who seemed to be her sister.

Cradled in her arms was Red. The Haro rocked slightly but did not utter so much as a singsong syllable. Somehow the usually childish robot knew that this moment was special. A Romancer to its silicon core, it kept its peace and let things be.

Millie was feeling so many things all at the same time. Astonishment at this incredible development that none of them could have ever dreamed of. Uneasiness because of the unreality imposed upon them with no notice whatsoever. Fear due the knowledge that not everything was what it seemed, that all things had a price, and that all too often evil took the appearance of good.

Hope, an integral part of human nature and a most powerful emotion, because she was human and lived upon it. It was, as with Sakura, her most powerful spell.

So she asked. Millie asked the fateful, decisive question that would settle their doubts and fears as to whom this ghost was.

"_Onee-chan_ Is that you?"

Meene did not reply. For a long while, the ash-blonde woman kept her peace.

Despite her qualms, despite the insidious gnawing suggestions of hopeless and defeat, Millie dared to hope.

And then Meene smiled at her.

"Did you finish your rosary?"

For anyone else, it would have been –and was– a weird question. But for her sister, it was all the proof she needed. She knew. Then and there, she knew. Millie knew that this woman was her beloved sister. This was really Meene.

"_Onee-chan_!"

She ran. Nothing could hold her back. Not the winds, not world or God or Fate, not any of the X-Laws, not herself or even Meene, into whose arms she crashed into. She wanted them to never let go of her. She wanted them to last until her dying days.

They were both crying. Despite her toughness, Meene was crying. It showed how strong she was– _they_ were. They could freely shed tears without being afraid of how they looked or what others thought. And they needed to. They needed each other's love.

And they were content.

They were happy.

**  
**"Thank God. Thank God. Thank God you're here with me again."

"Yes. I'll never leave you alone again, Millie. Never again…"

**  
**Everyone was either cheering or crying. Syaoran did so grudgingly; he had a tough-guy image to retain, Sakura's nudging elbow notwithstanding. Even stern Kaho-_sensei_ wiped a tear from the corner of her eye at the touching scene. Plenty of hugs also went around. An alarmed Nakuru quickly disengaged hers when she realized it was Yukito she had hugged. (That she was blushing and looked like she had enjoyed it was beside the point, but obvious.) Chibi-Eah was grumbling about "the lack of action around here" and bawled about killing a company called Fluff, Inc. Lavi reminded him of his precarious position by tightening her arms just a little bit. The poor Pinoy pilot was squished.

In the midst of the double reunion and accompanying celebration, Marco noticed that one person was very much apart from all the happiness. Her action was understandable to all but him.

**  
**Rune Minor withdrew into the black folds of her 'minister' clothes. Simultaneously she closed her eyes and wrapped the invisible armor of her personal resolutions around her being. Her act signaled her self-imposed exclusion from active participation in the world and reduction into a distant observer. Her reflexive withdrawal was one she took whenever she encountered a situation requiring deep deliberation. It was externally and spiritually imperceptible– save by one person who knew her like the back of his hand.

"What's wrong now, Minor?"

The tall, bespectacled X-Laws ex-captain was not one to politely impose upon people's thoughts. He did so only by necessity and occasional opportunity. Effect politeness, that is. Marco was as subtle as a landslide and as gentle as the Inquisition. His bluntness was usually softened by the loftiness of his proclaimed goals and the calming influence of the Iron Maiden. But there was no disguising his insensitivity (which sometimes bordered upon stupidity).

Then again, everything people knew about him went out the window when he was confronted with one Rune Minor.

His question followed their mutually agreed-upon rules: show no outward sign of friendliness, instead pretending open detestation. That they did it convincingly was not so much good acting as a rehash of their old love-hate relationship. It didn't mean Marco wasn't concerned for Rune. He was. He wouldn't be asking if he wasn't. It was just that some things were best kept to just themselves– and a certain pesky Romancer girl.

But the Grim Reaper of Asakura Hao barely stirred. She refused to meet her old friend's eyes. Neither did she return an appropriate barb as was her penchant. And her evasion was none too neat, totally unlike her analytical, biting commentary.

"It's nothing," she muttered. "Now leave me be."

So saying, Rune moved off.

Marco frowned.

_Women…_

**  
**"Hello, Jess."

She looked away. "Don't call me that," was her hurried murmur.

"Why?"

"Because," came the stammered, uncertain reply, "Because that's not my name."

"But you are Jess, aren't you?"

"No. No. That isn't me. That isn't my name."

"Then what is? Would you rather I call you Eina? Or Pat?"

Her eyes were full of hurt, he saw. "My name is Rione," she protested.

"No."

"But–"

But he shook his head at that. He knew better. _They_ knew better. And so she fell silent and offered no resistance to his questions.

"Why? Why this? Are we total strangers? You always held me gently, but why do you push me away now? Why, Jess? Tell me why."

"_Tama na._" In despondence she reverted to her native tongue, pleading for a halt. _"Pakiusap, tama na…" **Stop. Please, stop…**_

But he wouldn't. He switched languages easily. _"Bakit?__ Sabihin mo sa akin."** Why? Tell me why.**_

"_Pakiusap__…" **Please…**_

"Jess–"

_"Tama na! Ayoko nang marinig ito!"_

**_Enough! I don't want to hear this!_**

He stared at her, frankly surprised by her outburst. She stared back. Her red-rimmed eyes were full of tears. His were close behind. And then he sighed and made as if to turn away.

"Jess..."

And then the girl who had once been Jessica Miranda gave up all pretenses, simply ran forward and mightily hugged her beloved Kite.

"I've missed you, Kite. I missed you."

He hugged her back.

"I missed you, too, Jess. I missed you like you would never believe possible."

"Why did you leave me?"

"I had to."

"Why?"

"You were strong. I believed that you would make it, even without me. And you did," he told her. "You did, and more."

"Come back."

"No."

"Why?"

"I can't."

"Why?"

"You know why."

And she did know why. It was all about Ukiya Ayane. She was his one and only failure as a Romancer. All of her happiness had been devoured by a heritage that she had never asked for. Happiness in friends or family or love, she had none and would never have any. Despite all his skill and might as a Romancer, Kite never could make Ayane truly happy. And he wanted to. He so wanted to.

He had fallen in love with her.

"Please understand me. It's not by my will. My fate was sealed long ago. There is nothing that I can do to change it."

"No!" Rione's denial resounded. "Things can still change! You told me once that as long as we believe and strive for something, then we can still make that happen! Don't you remember what you said? Don't you believe anymore?"

His smile was recriminating. He could barely meet her pleading eyes.

"I don't believe what I say anymore," Kite admitted. "I've given up."

She choked back a sob. His embrace drew her closer to him.

"Jess."

"My name is Rione."

She pushed him away, let go. He did not resist or grab for her.

"I'm sorry," Rione said. "I'm really sorry."

She turned and ran. She disappeared into the sudden deluge of gray rain that fell from the sky, a closing curtain to the act of her one-time, one-sided romance.

As she ran, she wept. Her salty tears were lost in the water that splashed across her face.

Kite watched her go. He, too, shed tears.

"I'm sorry, too, Jess. I'm sorry like you will never know."

**  
_On rain days, I remember my one desire. I wanted to see you. I want to see you. I want to see only you. And I still do. I see only you._**

**_Is the piece of myself that I left behind in your heart still there? Is it?_**

**_Asleep within the closed book of recollection are the gems of sorry Pandora– the ones we call 'memories'. Hesitant, holding my breath, I have watched them for what seems forever._**

**_And then I realize that I am alone here in the pouring rain._**

**_Yesterday I watched cherry pink petals falling from the sakura trees. I wept for them. I felt sorry for them, they who fell with bliss in them, they who went to their deaths with no sadness or misgiving. It was like forgetting you, little by little, as I passed. It was like dying, little by little, as I lived._**

**_You see, I am only a piece of you. And I just want to go back where I belong. I just want to return to your heart– to you. My broken eyes are quartz: milky blind, fallen fragments of a silvery crescent moon. You alone can fill them with light. You alone can make them shine._**

**_And so I am forever waiting for you, alone, here in the rain._**

**_I just want to see you. Is there anything wrong in that?_**

**_I just want to see you._**

**_And so I am still searching for the piece of me in your heart, here in the cold, unfeeling rain._**

**  
Tsuzuku**

**  
.**

**  
Sheo's Notes:**

Well, this chapter took me a while. But now it's done. And I hope that despite the major focus on the Romancers, this still be ManKin to the core.

Classes coming up! I will try to update this ficcie within two months. Best wishes to all my readers who await the dread new school year!

Oodles of thanks to Jess, Eina and Patty, the famous and most beloved trio: Fluff, Incorporated. Infinite gratitude for allowing me to mention you as inserts! More of you as most important inserts in my story!

Now, as to that ExT ficcie of mine…

**  
Next Chapter:** And so she is still searching for the piece of her in his heart, here in the cold, unfeeling rain. Will she ever find it? **_Chapter Eight: Rione_**


	9. Phoenix

_He was the most powerful Shaman in the whole world. His mere presence stilled all. Humans and demons and spirits alike lived in fear and awe of him. His slightest gestures brought incredible might to bear upon his foes. His hands wrought miracles in a world hungry for them. He made the impossible possible._

_He was invincible._

_Then came the Fall._

_He sought too much. In his pride, he thought he could surmount all. Instead, he was rejected. When he resisted, he was defeated._

_Like Lucifer, like lightning, he fell from Heaven._

_But he got up. He picked himself up, got back on his feet and started anew._

_And the world trembled in fear once more._

_Then that fateful battle came._

_Not a single warrior could stand against his might. But it was not a single warrior who confronted him, but a group of wildly dissimilar friends whose hearts and purposes were nevertheless united as one and whose powers came together as a force mightier than even him._

_And for the second time, he was defeated._

_He died. Or did he?_

_Like the phoenix of legend, the bird that dies a fiery death, only to be gloriously reborn anew._

_Asakura Hao._

**  
The Romancers**

**Set Two**

**  
Spiritless Poppet And Shaman King**

**  
Disclaimer:** Sheo Darren (meaning, me), owns only what I have created: My original characters and the story general. I don't profess to own Shaman King or any other familiar anime, movie, novel, song or others that is already owned by someone else.

**  
Chapter Eight**

**Phoenix**

**  
**---To **_Fan of S.K_.**: There. Finally, I've posted it. Sorry! And thanks!

---And to **_Setsumi-san_**: Truly, deeply, madly sorry for the long delay. Thanks for the tips. I love you!

**  
**She ran. Into a moonless night, beneath black clouds devouring the sky, stinging rain pelting her face repeatedly, skywater mixing with saltwater, she ran. Through the city whose scintillating lights and sparkling sights held no happiness, footsteps leading her deeper and deeper into the shapeless void, she ran.

Rione Asuka Hunter fled.

She could not stop running. Did not want to stop. All she wanted was get away. From him. That boy. Her one true love, the one true romancer in her whole wide world.

_Kite!_

Her foot caught on something. She hit the puddle hard, the breath knocked out of her. Water and slime and muck drenched her from head to toe, soaked her clothes in grime.

_This is nothing. This hurting is nothing compared to how my heart is hurting._

Slowly she sat up. Each sob she released shook her suddenly small body. Trembling, she shut her eyes and railed.

_I hate you. I hate you, Kite. You hurt me. You made me happy, only to take my happiness away in the end. I hate you. I hate you._

"I hate you!" she screamed at the night.

_And I hate myself for hating you. Because I still love you, and I can't stand to see you hurt._

Something felt wrong.

Rione looked up.

**  
**The truth was that he could not love her, that there was another.

The nightmare was that she was still alive to realize it.

She floated within a womb of faint glowing. Death surrounded her. The liquid warmth was pleasant poison. Even as it slowly ate away at her essence, killing her from within and without, she felt no pain, felt nothing. At least her killer was not cruel.

_How ironic,_ she thought. _Life is cruel. Death is gentle. But humans prefer to cling to life rather than embrace death. We don't know better until it is too late. And even then, we do not want to exchange our hurtful life for a peaceful death. We would rather fight it or run from it._

_Who wants life?_

In life, Kyouyama Anna kissed Asakura Yoh.

In life, Yoh loved Anna. Not her.

_I don't want to fight anymore. I don't want to run away anymore. I will accept my fate._

_Marion Phauna will die in peace._

**  
**The 'Thingy' –she didn't know what it was exactly, didn't have time or wits to name it according to Linnaeus– didn't concern her. Sure, the last time she'd seen an unnatural living mist that ate people was when she, Pat and Eina went to watch _Silent Hill_ on a whimsical dare. Up to this day, Pyramid Head still haunted her sleep. The only good thing that came out of that disastrous endeavor was Kite sitting right beside her, kind enough to hold her hand.

But the Thingy, for all the voracious, mindless evil it radiated, didn't frighten her.

The unconscious figure held in the middle of that phosphorescence did. The girl was unconscious. Still alive– but probably not for long. For all Rione knew, the Thingy was sucking her soul.

_You know what, Jess-_chan the chibi-Eina and chibi-Pat in her mind told her, _you're right! It **is **sucking her soul!_

_Thanks a bunch, girls, for stating the obvious…_

She recognized the girl. Marion Phauna. One of Asakura Hao's henchwomen. _How'd she get here?_ Irrationally– or not:_ Isn't she supposed to be paired with Nichrome?_

A gut-wrenching feeling: _is this why Kite was here? An alternate romantic pairing?_ He was known for advocating the weirdest pairings. So was Rione. (Marco-Rune, anyone?)_ But with whom? Oyamada Manta?_

_Why am I thinking of pairings right now? She's in danger! I got to save her!_

But she couldn't bring herself to move. She found her reflection in a pool of water and saw a frightened little girl.

_I'm no hero. I'm just a Romancer._

How flat that declaration felt to her. Would a Romancer worthy of the name run away from the person she loved? Would she tell someone to never run away from love, but herself disregard her own advice? What kind of Romancer was she? More so, what kind of person did her actions make her? She was a hypocrite, a Pharisee, a whitewashed tomb.

A liar, plain and simple. And a coward who ran away from the very best person in the world.

The mist stirred. Tendrils of blue-white slowly detached from that flowing mass and slithered towards her. It was not only hungry, but voracious.

She had to run. Or fight. But she couldn't. Her feet sank into concrete. Hesitation gripped her tight. Doubt held her in place. She wanted to scream. Her voice wasn't there. Nothing was there.

The mist reached for her.

_I'm going to die._

**  
_Bawat sandali ng ating buhay, pagmamahal mo'ng aking taglay_**

**  
**Song. She knew that song. _Makita Kang Muli._ By _Sugarfree_. Kite sang it to her a lot. It was one of their mutual favorite love songs.

But that was from a life long ago, a life long dead. _Why am I hearing it now? What does it mean? Why do I care?_

_Why do I cry even so?_

**  
_Sa'n man mapadpad ang aking hiling,_ _hindi, magbabago aking pagtingin. Pangako natin, sa Maykapal na tayo lamang sa habang buhay... maghintay_**

**_Ipaglalaban ko, ating pag-ibig. Maghintay ka lamang, ako'y darating. Pagkat sa isang taong mahal mo ng buong puso, lahat ay gagawin. Makita kang muli. Makita kang muli._**

_**Makita kang muli…**_

**  
**The fire of life within her flickered back into bright existence. Her heart throbbed madly, deeply, passionately. She had no magic sword, was no legendary hero of renown.

_But I'm a Romancer!_

_No. More than that, I'm a human being. I'm alive. I'm alive! I want to be alive._

"**I want to live!"**

Light chased away the shadows of the streets, sent the mist reeling from the girl it thought to feed upon. Rione stared into the very face of horror. Brave courage filled her. Brave courage that made everything a hundred million percent better.

"Take my body. Take my soul. Take everything away from me." Her eyes shone bright. "But leave me my brave little heart and my shining love!"

So saying, she socked the mist into lower Earth orbit.

**  
**The warmth disappeared.

At first she didn't understand the respite granted. Almost pathetically she sought out the fading vestiges, wanted it back.

Without it, she was alone, stark naked, stranded within the cold darkness.

Even death, it seemed, did not want her.

_No one did._

Mari wept.

**  
**As she went over the unconscious Mari, Rione feared that she was too late. The witch girl's _furyoku_ was very weak. Her life signs were even weaker.

_That dratted mist thingy! It sucked both her spiritual power _and_ her life force. I took too long! If I was only a healer…_

The presence was fearsome, very powerful– and right behind her. Rione spun around to meet this new threat, right arm locked and cocked to launch an almighty punch of doom. Instead, she gaped.

_I know this guy!_

"You're–!"

"Let me. After all," the youth told the awed Romancer, "She is my responsibility."

So saying, he bent down to the dying Mari and whispered.

**  
**The emptiness terrified her. She quested around the darkness surrounding her for something, anything to touch, to feel, to reassure herself. A soul drowning in a pitch black ocean of despair, she flailed about desperately, panicked, seeking purchase on whatever rocky surface within reach.

_I don't want to be alone!_

**_I've heard _that_ before…_**

_But I don't want to! I really don't want to!_

_Give me something! Anything!_

_Any proof that I'm still here, that I'm still alive even for just a little while longer._

There were words, lines, coherent speech, and a voice telling a story. The voice struck her as familiar. It was that of a young man's, strong and vibrant, but marked with the wisdom of the ancients and the confidence of the invincible.

That voice became her lifeline, her anchor. It drew her to its source as surely as a bee was drawn to honey. Stumbling, almost happily, she followed it– and found herself enraptured once more by the boy who owned it.

**  
**_"To be born into this world is a very lonely thing. The baby spends nine months in its mother's womb, protected, cosseted. But when those nine months are over, it must leave the safety of the womb and enter this dangerous world. It has to. Otherwise, how can it truly begin to live?_

"_Birth is a painful passage. Cold, heat, hunger, glare, all manner of unpleasant sensations it has never known before while ensconced in the safety of its mother's body, assault the newborn child. For all it knows, it is being killed. Truly, it is dying._

"_But it is absolutely necessary that the child go through all this suffering. It **must** know death. Otherwise, if it does not know how to die, how can it know how to live?_

"_And this knowledge of death teaches it to all the more love life– to live better._

"_I have one more thing to tell you of. Do you know of the phoenix? It is a legendary bird that lives for three hundred years. At the end of its long life, it constructs a funeral pyre for itself. It burns itself to its death. From its ashes rises a new phoenix._

"_You are that new phoenix. The old you died when your family was burnt alive before your very eyes. The old you died in that fire. The new you were born out of those very same flames._

"_See yourself as reborn. Be you as you are now. Forever._

"_Live, Marion Phauna."_

**  
**A spark of bright life hovered before her. No, not a mere spark, but a veritable supernova, a firestorm of red and white exploding into existence. It seared her eyes and set her skin on fire. But she did not flinch nor fear it. She knew it meant her no harm. It was a friend, a protector and a teacher.

**He** was her savior.

She eagerly reached for it. First her fingertips, then her fingers and hands and arms and all the rest of her burned away, the flames consuming her almost instantly, skin and flesh and bone into ash. Like the phoenix on its death pyre, she welcomed this fiery death. She was not afraid, but expectant.

_Be reborn,_ she whispered as what she would know as the old _her_ died. _Be reborn, me._

**  
_"Yes."_**

**  
**Mari stirred.

"You're awake," the voice told her.

Night still reigned. The stars peered down at the girl their cousin had glanced upon. They twinkled in approval.

"Don't worry. You're safe."

She knew it to be true. She was in his arms. For her, he was the most powerful person in the world. He was invincible. He was without equal. He was her everything, her lord and her god.

"I'm sorry," she murmured.

_For not being there at your side. For thinking you were dead. For not loving you enough. For everything I am._

"Don't be."

Tired but happy, Mari rested her face against his chest to sleep. Her heart was at peace.

"Thank you."

_My love… my master…_

**  
**Rione watched them disappear into the night. Her heart was at peace. She knew _he_ would keep her safe. _They _were the romance that was meant to be. Now and forever. Amen.

A song came back to her, singsong lines from the poem that stood as manifesto of her organization and herself.

_We are the Romancers. The Romancers are we. We are only human. But we can dream, can't we?_

"Yes. Yes, we can dream."

**  
**Aside, Kite smiled.

"_Makita kang muli,_ Jess. To see you once more…"

**  
**Kyouyama Anna stared.

Not 'glared' as she was wont to do, her face being fixed into a permanent glower. She actually stared. The Ice Queen was honestly surprised.

So was the rest of the _Funbari Onsen_ gang, staring at the apparition before them, the inopportune visitor who happened by in the middle of the night.

"Hello, my once-future wife, and to you, too, my dearest younger brother. It's been a long time, has it not?"

Asakura Hao grinned. Carried in his arms was his lost lamb, the sleeping Marion Phauna.

**  
Tsuzuku**

**  
.**

**  
Sheo's Notes:**

It's best to start anew. Thus, a different– and very apt– name. Phoenix. Reborn.

This is probably the last important appearance of Rione. Thus, this becomes, truly, a ManKin fic again. (Thank God for that. It's so hard to write her… --)

Thanks to all who've followed me and waited for me. Here's to you all.

**  
Next Chapter: **Hao's back. Yoh's bemused. Anna is annoyed. And I'm actually continuing this story. **_Chapter Eight: Double Date._**


	10. Double Date

Asakura Hao smiled.

Asakura Yoh did likewise.

Kyouyama Anna smirked.

Marion Phauna blinked.

"May I take your orders?" their unruffled waiters asked.

**  
**

* * *

**The Romancers: Set Two**

**  
Spiritless Poppet And Shaman King**

* * *

**  
**

**Disclaimer:** Sheo Darren (meaning, me), owns only what I have created: My original characters and the story general. I don't profess to own Shaman King or any other familiar anime, movie, novel, song or others that is already owned by someone else.

* * *

**  
Chapter Nine**

**Double Date**

* * *

**  
**It began when Hao dropped by Funbari Onsen at midnight, a sleeping Mari borne in his arms.

"Hello, my once-future wife, and to you, too, my dearest younger brother. It's been a long time, has it not?"

Anna recovered quickly and furiously. Her stare became a glare. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought to drop by your beautiful abode and extend my regards."

"You're not welcome here. Go away."

"And to bring back one of your runaways, too, if I may say."

"She's not welcome here, either. Go away. And don't forget to take her with you."

"Is that any way to treat family?"

"You're more like an in-law," Anna returned, "The obnoxious and unwanted kind from a Filipino soap opera. Now go away."

"You break my heart so much."

"You don't have a heart."

"But the figurative foot is already in your equally figurative doorway. Can you possibly turn us away in such a gruff and uncivilized manner considering the ungodly hour and place?"

"I have just slammed shut that figurative doorway, crushing your figurative foot into a pulp."

Yoh grimaced. "Anna…"

Hao was pleasantly surprised to see Anna cave in to that request. (He kept his pleasure out of sight, though. No use provoking the lioness in her den. Say what you will, but Hao was smart.)

"Fine," Anna growled. "They can stay for the night."

"And?" Yoh pressed.

"For infinity, if they want to. Happy now?"

"Yes. Thanks, Anna."

Hao thought he actually saw Anna smile slightly at that.

**  
**He kept out of Anna's way for the most part to avoid providing the Queen of Funbari Onsen with the excuse to kick them out. It was a fine exercise, something Hao hadn't done since attaining near-godhood. Absolute power did have its drawbacks. He found it intellectually stimulating– and far more interesting; dare he say exciting, too?– to actually negotiate with a stronger power instead of cowing someone with a display of overwhelming strength or simply powering on through an obstacle.

Mostly he watched over Mari. The girl took a week to completely recover from her harrowing ordeal. The mist creature he glimpsed must have extensively drained her of _furyoku_. From what Yoh told him, this made the second time around that it had attacked her.

_It had been tracking her all this time. Why?_

The creature posed a welcome mystery. It preyed exclusively on Shamans or at least people with high levels of _furyoku_. Otherwise, there would have been a rash of incidents with the normal humans, accompanied by press conferences, "learned commentary" from "experts" and mass hysteria about "aliens who had come for humankind's souls". (Hao smirked at such nonsense.)

He had not heard of or encountered any creature that preyed on _furyoku_ during his extensive lifetime. Solid researching was called for. Hao hadn't studied for the past millennia or so. Another mental exercise…

Who could have created such a monster? Someone with a vendetta against Shamans, obviously, since Shamans were the creature's only victims. _Another Shaman?_ He found it illogical. _If you were so smart and powerful in the first place, why create something that could just as easily attack you?_ Certainly Hao wouldn't. Or maybe the creator didn't care about the consequences.

That last was a sobering thought, even for Hao.

Perhaps it was a human. Had someone discovered the existence of Shamans and felt sufficiently threatened to act against them? More likely it was an organization. No single human possessed the resources to find out so much about Shamans, much more actually create a monster built specifically to hunt and kill them.

Then why? After all the energies Shamans invested in keeping out of sight and mind, why attack an inoffensive, if formidable, people?

But humans were seldom creatures of logic despite their innate intelligence. Indeed, it was to Hao's learned experience that the smarter a creature was, the more prone it was to stupidity and the more vulnerable it was to regress back to animal reactions like fear and hate.

_So many possibilities…_

"Master Hao?"

He smiled. Mari returned it wanly. "What is it?" he asked, inwardly marveling that his stone-cold killer minion had mellowed in much the same way he did in so little time. _Little brother, you are strong, indeed._

"I… ah…. I want to thank you. For saving me. And coming back for me."

"Of course. Why would I not do so? But tell me, Marion, did you enjoy your stay here?"

Her face fell. She seemed to be considering a great pain in her heart. But almost immediately the gloom lifted when she realized he watched her. "Yes. I did."

The truth, Hao decided then, wasn't so bad.

**  
**"Yoh. I have a favor to ask of you."

"What's that?"

Bystanders would have marveled at how easily the "siblings" talked. Considering their histories and conflicts, one might have expected a world war to begin once the two found themselves within weapons reach of each other.

But Hao had changed a lot in the year that passed. And Yoh always stayed the same.

**  
**"A date?" Anna looked suspicious. "Did Hao put you up to this?"

"Yes," Yoh sheepishly admitted. A calculated risk: telling her the truth. But Hao himself suggested it. His brother was pretty smart. "It's a double date. I'll be your date while Hao has Mari along as his partner."

"Why should I do what that scumbag wants me to do?"

"Because I really want to go out with you for some time now, but don't have the money to splurge?" he lamely suggested.

"And since Hao was conveniently present and offered his money, you agreed."

"Well, yes." Yoh prepared to get punched or kicked or strangled with prayer beads.

Anna smirked. "Excellent, Yoh. You're learning how to take advantage of other people's generosity." She fondly patted his spiky hair. "Well done, my student. Master is very proud of you."

"Huh?"

**  
**Hao was as good as his word. (He always was. Just that he was also too condescending for his own good at a lot of times.) The restaurant he picked was a swanky number with a good background. A well-dressed doorman personally guided them to their reserved table. Not less than three waiters attentively hovered over them, waiting for their tiniest whim.

Everyone wore their best clothes. Well, not Mari, since she didn't really any clothes aside from her tattered black sundress. Tamao kindly lent her a dress and advice for the date.

"Are you an expert on dating, Tamao?" the blonde girl had innocently asked in the middle of the lecture, embarrassing her new friend into panicked denials.

She did find her borrowed dress rather big. (Mari also remembered Tamao's reaction. "I'm not fat," the pink-haired girl mumbled to herself repeatedly while huddling in a corner of her room. A suggestion of "that blue-topped Ainu boy probably likes his lovers plump" got her chased out of the room with a pillow.) But who was she to complain?

Anna dressed for the both of them. Yoh wondered what closet she kept that slinky backless gown in because he never remembered ever washing such a dress. It looked great on her. He tried, and failed, to keep his eyes from considering his fiancée's smoothly bare back and thighs, the dress being cut high at its sides to show off Anna's legs.

Hao had no moral dilemmas with voyeurism. He did keep it discreet lest the two girls kill him where he stood, one hating his guts, the other jealous, both dangerous. _Ah, but I've forgotten how exciting an event dating is._

They had different styles when it came to ordering. Yoh looked at the price tags on the right side of the menu. His fiancée didn't bother, immediately ordering the house specialty and informing the waiter that she "hoped it was good." (_For your sake,_ she didn't have to add.) Mari turned to Hao for his learned opinion. He did not fail her.

Neither did the cooks. The meal was sumptuously rich. "As befitting this restaurant's pedigree," Hao loftily praised. While she instantly agreed with her master, Mari was of the secret opinion that Tamao's cooking was better. Yoh would have loudly approved had not Anna nudged his foot. (He was expecting a stomp, actually.)

Dessert arrived. The devil's chocolate cakes (and here Anna gave Hao a suspicious look concerning a possible sense of humor) were sinfully sweet. Anna demurely refused on grounds of dieting. On the other hand, Mari happily demolished her slice with gusto, stole Anna's and greedily eyed Yoh's. The _itako_ "victim" glowered while Yoh grimaced. Hao chuckled as he offered his own cake slice to appease the ravenous girl. He'd long known Mari had a sweet tooth for chocolate, but never did he imagine the lengths she would go.

"The last thing we need is a hyperactive sugar junkie," Anna grumbled.

Worse (at least for Anna) was to come. The waiters served scintillating red wine. _"Kampai,"_ all four cheered above tinkling glasses. Yoh downed his in one shot to quickly get things over with. Anna lectured him at length on the civilized way of enjoying wine. "What's the use of being the Shaman King if you can't drink like a gentleman?" She forced half a dozen glasses on him until he got it right.

In the process, the Shaman King got drunk and turned weepy.

"Oh, great, my future husband is a crying jug…"

"I'm sorry…"

**  
**In between bites they chatted with their respective partners. (Whenever Yoh tried striking a conversation with Hao or Mari, Anna would always head him off back to her.) Hao's story proved interesting.

"I traveled around the world. You might be happy to hear that I didn't kill anyone or eat their souls while at it."

Somehow that assurance made the miserable Yoh a bit happier.

"It's interesting how Shamans and humans get along most of the time. That is, no one knows that their next door neighbor can communicate with ghosts. It's just another skeleton in the closet that everyone tacitly understands to exist and politely ignores. I for one am glad that I didn't succeed in exterminating them."

"What a novel and heartrending way to put your feelings into words," Anna acerbically noted.

**  
**The waiter bore Hao's credit card with profound reverence. "Has anyone ever thought," Anna posed, "Of wondering why a kid like you is carrying a Platinum Visa?"

"Once or twice? Yes."

"You ate them?" Yoh was properly horrified. "But I thought –"

"Oh, no, not at all. I merely turned them into mindless puppets so that they wouldn't disclose my secret to others. They're still perfectly alive."

Yoh sobbed into his glass. _"Oniichan, hidoi…"_

**  
**"Cold," Anna observed as they exited the restaurant.

Indeed the night air had turned nippy. Anna immediately looked to Yoh.

"Ah, right, yeah…" The Most Powerful Shaman In The World fumbled with his tux.

Mari felt something warm and comfortable rest upon her shoulders. Hao had taken his tux off and put it on her. He smiled at her.

"Comfy?"

Mari smiled back. "Yes."

And all was right with her world.

**  
**Somewhere behind them, it growled.

* * *

**  
**

**Tsuzuku**

* * *

**  
Sheo's Notes:**

Whee!

But… so difficult to write… mou…

Next up: more humor!

* * *

**  
Next Chapter: **Two women talk about the man they both love. Said blockhead is in hearing range– but does not understand a bit of it. "What an idiot." **Chapter Nine: **Girl Talk.


End file.
